The Wizard of Westeros
by Archmage.Potter
Summary: The Master of Death's wandering spirit finds a universe where a medieval world has counterparts of people he once knew. His spirit merges with a mortal host named Harren Storm, bastard son of Lord Steffon Baratheon, half-brother of Robert Baratheon, in the year 272 AC. Westeros setting with HP characters built into the world.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

I smiled as I slipped through the rift in reality. Smiled, in the metaphorical sense, as in my cosmic form, such mortal and physical expressions have no meaning. You see, this isn't the first time I have jumped from one universe to another nor would it be the last – after all, as the immortal Master of Death, I had to keep myself occupied somehow.

However, this was the first universe in the infinite multiverse I had personally encountered where people from my original home world had counterparts. Oh, they would be completely different with unique personalities and characteristics and in a world that was vastly different to my original home world but some part of them would be a reflection of the people I once knew. That was why I was so excited.

Now, usually cosmic beings are not permitted to enter the mortal plane but there are exceptions to the rule – and I, being an ex-mortal, am an exception in my own regard. I could enter the mortal world by way of a spirit merger with a mortal host and then two spirits would temporarily become one – the mortality of the combined spirit would mean I would no longer have access to my cosmic powers and my magic and the Deathly Hallows would not be available to me but equally the cosmic aspect of the combined spirit meant that any latent or potential skills and powers of the mortal host would be unlocked and amplified to its greatest extreme, within the limits of that universe. I didn't mind, really, as being a cosmic entity without any cosmic purpose was rather dull and these little vacations into mortality were quite fun.

But, selecting the right avatar was key. I had to pick a child – as otherwise the host spirit of an adult would have developed its own identity and the merger would be more painful for both parties and could potentially damage the combined entity permanently but children, especially less than ten years old, were the easiest hosts that took the merger in stride as a natural development and the combined spirit grew up as a true amalgamation of both components.

The world I had found was very different to earth. Even the magic was different, primarily based on elemental magic and abilities derived from elemental affinity. Moreover, the system was rather feudal, so I had come down to three criteria for my potential host:

1\. A child less than ten years old. For the reasons mentioned above. Mandatory  
2\. Born to an aristocratic family. After all, if I was going to live as a mortal in a feudal system, why should I opt to be a peasant when I could be a lord?  
3\. Multiple or enhanced elemental affinities. So, I would be powerful even without my cosmic power.

The first criteria was mandatory and the other two were desirable but not mandatory - I may end up having to compromise in some manner.

Magic, as I perceived it, in this world could essentially be divided into three types:

(a) Elemental Manipulation, the ability to create and manipulate one of the four base elements;  
(b) Internal Magic, magic derived from a base element that enhances or affects the individual internally in some manner; and  
(c) External Magic, magic derived from the base element that allows the individual to affect his external environment in some manner.

Most magic-users in the world, from what I could see, had one or two Internal or External Magic abilities and never really understood the nature of their magic well enough to develop it further but my spirit merger would allow the combined entity that I would become to do Elemental Manipulation, one Internal Magic and one External Magic, and that is why I wanted to pick someone with multiple potential elemental affinities.

That narrowed down my option to three potential hosts.

_Aegon Targaryen_, only a few months old, fourthborn and second surviving son of King Aerys II Targaryen and Queen Rhaella Targaryen. His spirit was weak and if I didn't pick him, he wouldn't survive the year, but if I did pick him, I would unlock his Fire Elemental magic which included Natural Healing as a possible Internal Magic that would heal him. Although fire was the only element he had the potential for, generations of inbreeding had meant the Targaryen seed was now so saturated in fire elemental potential that I would possibly be able to unlock multiple Internal Magic and External Magic related to that single element.

_Harren Storm_, bastard son of Lord Steffon Baratheon and Princess Daena, daughter of Prince Duncan Targaryen and Jenny of Oldstones. He was just about to turn seven, and would die after falling from the walls of Storm's End, if I didn't pick him, but if I did pick him, I would unlock his Air Elemental magic which would cushion his fall and he would survive. The best thing about him was the Baratheon bloodline was descended through the Storm Kings of House Durrandon from Elenei, the daughter of the Wind Goddess and the Sea God whilst the Targaryen bloodline gave him potential for Fire Elemental and Jenny of Oldstones was descended from the long-vanished kings of the First Men who were Earth Elementals. So, he was uniquely placed in that world as the only individual with the potential for all four elements. However, he was a bastard and there was stigma attached to that.

_Joanna Arryn_, daughter of Lord Jon Arryn and Lady Jeyne Royce, who would be born stillborn after her mother dies in childbed. If I picked her, she would unlock Earth Elemental magic from her ancient Royce bloodline that traced its lineage to the Bronze Kings of Runestone in the Dawn Age, and that would give her the strength and vitality to endure the tough birth. Meanwhile, her Arryn bloodline, truest of the Andals, gave her the potential for Air Elemental magic, a source different to Elenei but yet linked to Air. Multiple elements and a high enough birth was her selling point.

So, my options were clear: limit myself to fire magic, grow up a bastard or become a girl. I dismissed the first instantly – although becoming a royal prince by choosing Aegon was tempting, I valued magical power more than family status. And then I dismissed Joanna Arryn – part of me just wasn't ready to give up being male – I mean, how would my sexuality turn out if I picked her? Would two parts of me be always in battle as to who I found attractive? That only left the bastard, and so, I elected to pick Harren Storm.

As he had access to all four elements, I had to pick my primary element. I picked Air mainly because it was what I needed to survive the fall from the wall but also because in some ways, it was the most versatile and powerful of elements. After all, wind could extinguish the mightiest of fires, break mountains, turn the course of rivers and create hurricanes. By picking Air as my primary element, I would be able to tap into the magic associated with Air without any difficulty at all from the moment the spirit merger took place and also obtain an elemental form linked with Air. It would be as natural for me to wield magic related to my primary element as it would be to stand up or raise a hand.

After picking Air as my primary element, I could pick either Fire or Water as my secondary element, for Earth was the polar opposite of Air while the other two merely indicated the two different paths possible in the cycle of the four elements. I picked Fire, arbitrarily, but noting that Water would have been as useful. Fire, unlike Air, would not come naturally and I would have to persevere to master fire-based magical abilities. Water would be even harder whilst Earth would be as good as non-existent – I would have very limited and weak Earth elemental magic.

So, even as I readied myself for my spirit merger, my cosmic awareness chose and finalised the magical abilities young Harren Storm would have access to, following our spirit merger.

**Air (comes naturally)**

1\. Elemental: Wind Manipulation  
2\. Internal Magic: Invisibility  
3\. External Magic: Telekinesis  
4\. Elemental Form: Winged Stag

**Fire (unlocked after mastering Air)**

Elemental: Fire Manipulation - _true extent of abilities to be determined in the future_

**Water (unlocked after mastering Fire)**

Elemental: Water Manipulation - _true extent of abilities to be determined in the future_

**Earth (unlocked after mastering Water)**

Elemental Manipulation: Stone Manipulation - _true extent of abilities to be determined in the future_

* * *

**272 AC**

I woke up with a start. Did it work? Of course, it did, I chided myself in my mind, otherwise how would I have just woken up? Cosmic beings didn't sleep – at least not in the physical manner – and so the fact that I woke up implied I had been sleeping and that implied I was now a mortal.

I glanced around – I was in a chamber. But this looked fancier than the chamber I had been used to. Oh, father was kind to me, but obviously he couldn't treat me the same way he treated Robert and Stannis. That would not be appropriate given I was a bastard. The fact that he had convinced his wife Lady Cassana to raise me in Storm's End after my mother's death during childbirth showed he was an honourable man and that he loved me.

I took a deep breath.

Yes, the merger was indeed completed for I was aware about the cosmic aspect of my spirit and yet everything felt as if I was the same bastard Harren Storm that I had been before the fall.

The fall!

Of course, I wasn't in my chamber because I had fallen from the wall and perhaps moved to a guest chamber in the keep for healers to tend to me. I had climbed the wall to wave farewell to Robert, my half-brother, who was returning to the Vale after a brief visit home, as he was a ward of House Arryn at the Vale, as a result of agreements reached to forge an alliance during the War of the Ninepenny Kings. I appreciated the significance of the political move better now but before the fall, I had been greatly upset, for Robert was my only friend in Storm's End. Stannis, my other half-brother, disapproved of my existence, influenced by his mother Lady Cassana, who tolerated my presence but in the same way I would tolerate a pimple on my face. The rest of the servants took some king of sick pleasure in reminding me of my low status – as it won them approval with Lady Cassana – whilst father remained blissfully unaware of all of this.

I looked around my chamber and took a deep breath. I was Harren Storm but I was so much more than that as well. For instance, I could feel a connection with the wind around me, and as I raised a hand, I felt a gust of wind blow away from me. By rights, the ability to manipulate wind was in my blood even before the merger but if the merger hadn't happened, I might never have unlocked this ability. When the merger took place, the cosmic part of me willingly gave up all cosmic powers and abilities to become a mortal – but that created a resonance within my spirit – an equal (in mortal terms) but opposite force that unlocked all my latent abilities and amplifying them to their highest state. That was why I could manipulate wind so easily.

I raised another hand and a gust of wind blew towards me, strangely carrying words from the corridor. I could hear my father talk to Maester Cressen and Lady Cassana about how miraculously I had survived the fall. Maester Cressen noted that he had seen nothing like this before and in fact, I wouldn't have any permanent injuries, and we should thank the Seven for my survival. Lady Cassana said something that I couldn't catch - and instinctively, I pulled wind to bring the voices closer to me.

"But he's my blood!"

Wind carried father's words to me in response to whatever Lady Cassana had just said. I heard Maester Cressen tactfully make an exit.

"That is the problem, Steffon," Lady Cassana sounded exasperated. "He is your blood but he isn't mine. Can you not see how much of an insult his very presence is to me?"

"But he's a child," father argued.

"So was Robert when you sent him away to be fostered by Jon Arryn," Lady Cassana snapped. "You sent your firstborn son away… if Robert was old enough, then surely so is… this bastard…"

"Harren, his name is Harren," father sounded pissed off.

"Harren Storm," corrected Lady Cassana. "Not Harren Baratheon. Or do you intend to change that too, Steffon?"

"Of course, not," father snapped back. "He is my blood but I have no delusions that he is a bastard and will remain so. My trueborn sons and heirs are Robert and Stannis, not Harren."

I felt a sudden desolation inside me I hadn't expected. Yes, the child part of me had grown up unloved and somewhat neglected and the continued sharp rejection from father's wife continued to sting but I had become used to them – however, the words from father really hurt me in a manner I hadn't been prepared to endure. Equally, the cosmic aspect of me had also been unloved as a child and while he had grown over it, right now I was a child - all those memories of insecurities and loneliness from two lifetimes resonated against the hurt from father's words.

But then I heard another voice.

"He is my blood too."

I gasped for I didn't know when grandmother joined them, and I pulled the wind to bring me her voice with better clarity. Princess Rhaelle Targaryen was mother of Steffon Baratheon, wife of the late Lord Ormund Baratheon, betrothed to him when she was even younger than me, and so even though she was grandmother to three boys, two trueborn and one bastard, she was still in the prime of her womanhood and outshone Lady Cassana by her beauty and commanding presence.

"Surely, you haven't forgotten that, good-daughter?" grandmother's voice held an edge to it. "And in addition to being my blood, he is also the blood of Prince Duncan Targaryen, firstborn son of King Aegon V."

"The Prince of Dragonflies," mocked Lady Cassana. "Duncan _the Small_ gave up his claim to the throne."

"Yes, he gave up his claim to the throne but he did not renounce his name as a Targaryen," said Princess Rhaelle. "The boy is the last seed of that line, of my dear brother Duncan's get, firstborn son of my father, who was once king. So, good-daughter, you should be careful with words, for if someone else had heard you, they might very well have thought you were saying your house is higher in status than that of the king's. That's the kind of insurgent thinking that got the Reynes and Tarbecks in trouble… and even they hadn't set their eyes as high as the king."

I heard a startled gasp. "I didn't mean that, good-mother," said Lady Cassana in horror, knowing that rumours could spread like wildfire.

"Mother, please," father sighed, sounding tired.

"Son," she addressed him next. "While Cassana is wrong in her words and beliefs, you too are wrong in your actions – your home will only be as happy as your wife so if Harren's presence makes her unhappy, you have a duty to your family."

"What are you saying, mother?" asked father hesitatingly and I too was confused – was she taking my side or was she not?

"I am saying, son, that the time has come for me to return to my childhood home," she declared. "And I will take Harren with me, which will solve all your problems. He can be fostered at the Red Keep."

As father started protesting, I dropped my hold over wind and walked to the window in a daze. So it was happening – I would be sent away from Storm's End, from my father's home. I saw the courtyard where Robert and I used to play, while Stannis would gaze at us enviously – the armoury where I had one day hoped to collect my sword, and the walls which I used to climb. I had no delusions – I had grown up a bastard and every servant and soldier in father's employ took pleasure in reminding me of that – but I had hopes of becoming a knight Ser Harren Storm, perhaps marry a fair maiden, and if I was fortunate, she would stand to inherit a seat, and our children will grow up with a real family name, and not as a bastard's get, little better than the smallfolk.

But perhaps, this wasn't all bad, I mused. After all, moving to the royal court could increase my chances of improving my future. Especially, with my magic.

A smile came to my face. Father and Lady Cassana might reject me but I had my magic and that was all I needed. By the Seven, I would rise above the lowness of my birth, I vowed!

No, not the Seven, I corrected myself in my mind, but the Goddess of the Wind, whose bloodline I laid claim to, and I inclined my head in respect as I held on to the wind, feeling that something in the wind could sense my awakening. They may call me a bastard but in my mind I had no doubt of who I was:

I was Harren, Storm Lord, the Wizard of Westeros.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

As I stood on the deck of the double-masted _Stormsbride_, official vessel of House Baratheon, I felt a stronger connection to wind than ever before. Here, at sea, I could channel such strong currents of wind that the crew was stunned by how fast we were progressing.

My magical abilities had grown - or rather I was becoming more experienced at using them. I could pull wind in many novel ways but more than that, I also started using my other abilities. Invisibility was awesome – all I had to do was surround myself in an armour of wind and if I wanted, I would turn invisible, and I had used that to great effect to get a small amount of vengeance on Lady Cassana and Stannis in the few days after my fall during which preparations were made for my departure to King's Landing.

I also started using Telekinesis to move objects. It started with a startling suddenness when I accidentally knocked a jug but as I reached towards it – the jug froze in mid-air, several inches away from my extended finger tips – and I knew I wasn't pulling wind. I had felt a connection with my mind – like I had invisible hands and legs that could move far on their own and I could use them to move objects as I desired.

After that, my last few days in Storm's End were really fun. I had emptied chamber pots on Stannis' bed thrice now and despite Lady Cassana's attempt to keep it quiet, Stannis had developed a reputation as a bed wetter amongst the castle staff. Lady Cassana also found her favourite necklace missing and wanted to fire half the serving staff but when Lord Steffon went to check, it was right where it always had been. So, very quickly, Lady Cassana had lost a lot of goodwill from the servants and they were more than eager to make fun of Stannis behind his back – now that the bastard boy was no longer going to stay in Storm's End. I had my petty little revenge and I quite liked it.

Grandmother slept through most of the journey as she wasn't overly fond of sea travel. Father accompanied grandmother and me but he too stayed inside his cabin much throughout the journey, avoiding me out of guilt or sadness or just apathy, and I was okay with that, I suddenly realised. He cared about me to a point, yes, but not enough to give me his name, and that was okay, I decided. I just had to make my own name.

Upon reaching the harbour at King's Landing, I saw a welcoming party was already waiting for us. Father was smiling broadly and rushed to the man at the head of the party.

"Tywin, my old friend," father clasped arms with the man I now knew to be Hand of the King, Lord Tywin Lannister, the man who had wiped out two noble houses for daring to rebel against his father's dominion over the Westerlands. "How are you holding up? And your family?"

A faint smile came on Tywin Lannister's face but he first turned to grandmother and bowed. "Princess Rhaelle," he said regally. "His Grace sends me in his stead to welcome your return to your ancestral home."

"He does receive my ravens, then?" grandmother noted. "From the lack of any responses, I assumed the ravens just didn't get to him."

Tywin hesitated. "His Grace is occupied with many important matters of state. I am sure if he had the time, he would have –"

"Oh, you know him better than I do," grandmother cut in. "And even I know that isn't Aerys. Even as a lad, he was always fanciful, dreaming big things, and never putting in the hard work needed to make them come true."

Tywin remained silent and I could see an edge to his expression as he turned to father. "Steffon, I could do with having you in the Small Council? Will you not reconsider my earlier offer?"

"To serve as Master of Laws?" asked father.

"Or Master of Coin," Tywin replied back. "Or even in a non-titled capacity. I just need someone who the king will listen to."

Father shook his head. "Alas, my answer remains the same. The best way in which I can serve our King is by keeping the Stormlands strong and faithful. Besides, the King only listens to me because I only see him so rarely – if I were here in King's Landing, our friendship would also suffer like yours has. Besides, you have my mother here – she's his aunt and perhaps the only one he would listen to."

Tywin turned to grandmother but before he could say a word, grandmother cut in, "No, stop right there," she said. "While I might respect you in many ways, Lord Lannister, I cannot out of principle consider an alliance with the man who overturned all of my father's reforms."

"King Aegon V's reforms would have broken his grandson's reign," Tywin protested. "The nobles would not stand for the increased rights given to the Smallfolk. I only did what I had to in order to keep your nephew's kingdom intact. Restoring their rights, and in some instances, giving them greater ones, is what has kept your nephew's rule intact."

"Be that as it may," grandmother noted with a tone of finality, "I was sent away from King's Landing as a child and never been a part of its politics, and I do not intend my return to change that. I will retreat into the quiet shadows and meddle not in affairs of state."

Father changed subjects by looking at me. "My son," he said. "Harren Storm."

The last name stung in my ears but I took that moment to bow to the Hand of the King and he looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "I am aware, as is the rest of King's Landing, about the boy's parentage, including who gave birth to him. Is it wise, Steffon, to bring a descendant of an elder Targaryen bloodline in the Red Keep?"

Father waved aside his concern. "An elder line that abdicated from the throne and besides," he glanced at me apologetically, "he has no claim to family or title."

"Have you not learnt anything from the Blackfyre rebellions?" Tywin muttered.

Father's eyes flashed with fury. "You would dare?" he whispered. "I lost my father in the last Blackfyre rebellion - I held him as he breathed his last."

"Enough, boys," grandmother intervened. "Tywin raises a valid concern despite his insensitive manner of raising it. But Steffon is correct, the line of succession is clear and Harren will be brought up as loyal subject of the ruling line."

That ended conversation as we proceeded towards the Red Keep. As we walked, I could smell a terrible stench, like a privy that hadn't been cleaned in months, and I realised, to my horror, that was the smell of King's Landing, supposedly the greatest city in the world. Sighing, I pulled wind, pushing away the rancid air from the town and drawing towards me the clean and peaceful sea air.

"You get used to it," said father, having seen my expressions. "Besides, once we get halfway up on Aegon's Hill, the smell becomes less bad."

Those were the first words he had said to me since Storm's End and I looked at him in surprise. To his credit, a look of regret came to his face and he placed a hand on my shoulder. "You have had a tough life so far," he said. "And I wish I could say it will only get better… but the truth is, I simply do not know. I apologise, son, that a moment of weakness on my part has led to you facing a lifetime of scorn and ridicule."

"A moment of weakness without which I wouldn't exist," I added.

Father smiled. "In many ways, you remind me of my father."

"Nay," grandmother joined in. "He's much more like your grandfather."

"Grandfather?" father was surprised. "I barely knew Lyonel Baratheon, the Laughing Storm, but I don't see the similarity…"

"Not him," said grandmother. "I meant your other grandfather. Harren very much reminds me of my father."

Father took a sharp breath. "Mother, you heard Tywin. It wouldn't do anyone any good to remind them of Harry's ancestry."

"Pha," sighed grandmother. "The lords called Aegon V 'half a peasant' so it should hardly matter to them if I liken a bastard to a peasant."

As we turned and had our first sight of King's Landing, I was stunned. In my memories of other lives, I had seen giant sprawling cities before the likes of which would King's Landing to shame but in this lifetime, with these eyes and this mind and this heart, I had not seen anything like this. The city stretched as far as the eye could see, with the magnificent Red Keep on Aegon's Hill at one end, and a great road leading from the Red Keep to Baelor's Sept in the middle of the city. It was hardly the size of any modern city but as far as medieval cities went, this was glorious.

"How many people live here?" I asked curiously.

"About half a million," said Tywin Lannister, with a sudden interest towards me. "Mainly, smallfolk, but also a good number of younger sons of nobles, without any holdfast of their own, seeking their fortunes or pursuing a trade of their choice. Perhaps, you might want to consider joining one of the guilds as an apprentice."

Father cut in before I could say anything, "I was hoping Harren would be permitted to receive instruction in the sword by the Kingsguard and in other things by the Grand Maester."

I saw an unspoken war of will between Tywin Lannister and father and I realised that the Hand's suggestion for me to join a guild was an insult. He didn't consider me of noble birth and so not worthy of the usual education given to those of noble birth.

"That would be most unwise," said Tywin, breaking the silence. "The time of the Kingsguard and the Grand Maester is a most valuable resource and as Hand of the King, I cannot allow it to be wasted. Even if you petition the King, I would be compelled to advise him to the contrary and question your intentions with placing a royal bastard in the royal court to receive a royal education."

Once again, grandmother cut the tension between the two. "Harren will not receive a royal education," she declared, and Tywin smiled in triumph. "But that does not mean he cannot receive _any_ education. Steffon, before you leave, you can find an adequate instructor to teach Harren the way of the sword, and pay him in advance for his services. And I daresay I could give him a passable education in the history, geography and politics of Westeros."

As we approached the great bronze gated of the Red Keep, I saw Tywin throw a somewhat resentful look at me.

Great work, I mused to myself, already making powerful enemies.

* * *

I was given a chamber in the Maidenvault, which was once used as a prison by King Baelor Targaryen where he kept his sisters captive to prevent them from having carnal thoughts, and since then, it had been in disuse, mainly because it was too lavish on the inside to be used for anyone other than the royal family and yet had a stigma attached to it as it was designed as a prison that made it inappropriate for use for the royal family or any important guests. But as a bastard, they could easily put me there.

In contrast, grandmother was given a chamber in Maegor's Holdfast where the King and the Queen resided and father was given a temporary chamber in the Tower of the Hand. I was informed very early on that Maegor's Holdfast was a strictly forbidden area unless you wanted to get on the King's bad side – Queen Rhaella had undergone far too many miscarriages and stillborn births that the King was now suspicious of some kind of foul play. And so, I decided to avoid that general area altogether.

That didn't mean that I didn't get to see the King. The very first day, father and grandmother went straight to the Great Hall and I followed them. The great gates opened to a grand hall that could easily seat over a thousand people, and was adorned by dragon skulls and tapestries showing platinum-blonde haired warriors on dragons conquering their enemies. And on the far end, stairs led up the Iron Throne, made of the swords of the conquered enemies of Aegon I Targaryen. Although I was there, I wasn't presented before the King nor was I introduced formally in the court – another indicator of my bastardry for everyone there knew exactly who I was but ignoring me was their way of conveying the message that I didn't matter.

I liked my new home. I had a chamber in the first level of the Maidenvault, just above the ground level which was comprised of a large hall with very high ceilings meant for entertaining purposes. The very first night, I decided to explore the Maidenvault more fully. The tower had five storeys, and the higher you went, the less luxurious they were and the ceilings became less high. But it wasn't the upper storeys that interested me but rather what was beneath the Maidenvault. You see, I discovered quite by accident when I felt wind come through a most unusual place – the ground floor hall had carved into the walls shapes of dragons, and through one such dragon's eye, due to my connection with wind, I could feel wind come through that eye. Upon a closer scrutiny, I discovered that was a peephole from a hidden passageway within the walls, and so, I channelled wind through the peephole to get a sense of where it led to, and I found a secret passageway. Following the passage of the wind, I came upon a dragon statue that could be pulled forward to reveal a small gap for a single person to creep within.

Within the walls of the Maidenvault, I discovered, there was a network of secret passageways that led to an underground cavern, and the cavern proceeded in many directions. Excited, I set about exploring.

The first tunnel I took led me to the throne room, which was empty at night. But I found no less than three peepholes and one exit through which one could enter the throne room directly from the hidden passageways. The next tunnel took me to the kitchens, where I could hear gossip amongst the castle staff.

"You don't say!" someone exclaimed, an older woman. "Then what happened?"

"I turned about and left, didn't I?" another voice continued, a young chamber maid. "I wasn't going to stand there and listen to the King talk about dishonouring the Queen. But I tell you, I hear it well and good, the King has commanded the Queen cannot breastfeed the young princeling until he has found a suitable taster to suckle her breasts to test for poison."

"That is mighty ugly for the gentle queen," sighed the older woman. "To have a stranger suckle her breasts just so she can feed her child."

"Can you blame him, though?" a third voice joined the discussion. "After our Prince Rhaegar's birth, there have been two miscarriages, then Princess Shaena was stillborn, Prince Daeron survived only a few months after birth, another stillborn, yet another miscarriage last year, and now, can you blame the King to be so cautious for Prince Aegon, especially given he was born two months premature?"

I gasped in horror. The King and Queen had lost so many children I couldn't help feel for them. But I gathered myself and turning invisible, I crept out of my secret hiding place to enter the kitchens and grabbed a loaf of bread when no one was looking and rushed back in, keeping the wind from carrying any sound I made to reach anyone else.

As I nibbled the freshly baked bread – no doubt for the king's breakfast tomorrow – I kept walking, until I reached yet another part of the catacomb with a new set of tunnels, and these looked newer, as if built more recently than the original network of tunnels and passages, and I realised I was beneath Maegor's Holdfast. There was a passageway that led to the Queen's Ballroom, which was also empty and had an entrance to the secret passages, and as I walked further along, I saw peepholes into the young princes' nursery, a peephole into Prince Rhaegar's chamber, where he was writing something, and another peephole into the queen's chamber, where the Queen was sobbing in the embrace of grandmother.

"Oh, dear child," grandmother said soothingly, as she stroked her niece's hair, which were a complete mirror image of her own. "This is not your fault. None of this."

"That's – that's not how – how – Aerys sees it," the Queen managed to say in between her sobs. "H-He's kept me c-captive here… I cannot even leave the h-holdfast without his permission. And now - now a stranger must lay hands on me…"

"That is outrageous!" said grandmother. "I will speak to him, don't you worry, child."

"H-He won't l-listen," she said. "H-He doesn't listen to anyone."

"He will listen to his father's sister," declared grandmother. "He may ignore what I have to say as is a King's right, but I shall have my say. I will not stand by and let a Targaryen Queen's honour be so tarnished."

I chose that moment to step away from there, feeling slightly bad about having intruded into such a delicate and private moment. I began retracing my steps to leave the catacombs beneath Maegor's Holdfast and took a different route and this time I found myself in a chamber where I could eavesdrop yet another family member.

My father was in the Tower of the Hand with Lord Tywin Lannister and they were talking about King Aerys.

"He rejected my choice for Master-at-Arms at the Red Keep," sighed Tywin. "I am sure Ser Willem Darry is a decent knight but what can I do if the King does not listen to me?"

"To be fair, Tywin, he probably did you a favour there," said father. "If you appointed your brother to an important position, these foolish rumours that the King is just a figurehead while Lord Tywin Lannister runs the Seven Kingdoms would grow even worse."

"I am not sure if those rumours are completely unfounded… I am worried, Steffon," said Tywin. "Aerys is no longer the man you and I remember him to be. He isn't our old friend. Steffon, you must see that."

"Even if that were true, why does it matter?" father asked curiously. "He is my king and I am his subject and his Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. That is all I need to know."

"Come on, Steffon, you were not always this dim-witted," said Tywin. "Aerys will bring the kingdom to ruin. He insisted on giving gold to the Volantenese during their war against Myr and Tyrosh and now we have lost two strong trading partners. The increase in port fees – surely you heard how that hurt our trade relationships – that was all his doing. And he made me take the fall for it."

"You are King's Hand," father shrugged. "He can use you as he pleases and if he wants to use his Hand to stop mud from hitting his face, that is our king's – and no one else's – choice."

"You cannot tell me you support all of this… madness?" Tywin sounded incredulous.

"What can I say," sighed father. "I am a simple man. In my philosophy, I rule the Stormlands at the pleasure of my King. Even if he were to command me to empty the Stormlands and wage war on Myr and Tyrosh, I would do so without hesitation, that is my philosophy, simple as it may be."

"Then, perhaps you should have been Hand," said Tywin, sounding disgruntled.

"We both know that would have been disastrous. You are a good Hand, Tywin, and regardless of our different political views, I have nothing but the utmost of respect for you," said father. There was silence. "Sometimes, I miss those olden days, when you, me and Aerys would spend hours in taverns and set off seeking adventures. What happened to us?"

"Life," said Tywin simply. "You know, that bastard of yours, he cannot stay, of course."

"Harren?" Father was surprised. "Why not?"

"He's a royal bastard," said Tywin simply, as if that explained it. "The longer he stays here, the more established the royalty of his bastardy becomes. If he goes elsewhere, that wouldn't matter and he would be more accustomed to the life he will eventually lead."

"On that, we will disagree," sighed father. "Harren is a good lad. Sometimes, I see in him…"

"What?" asked Tywin. "What do you see?"

Father grinned sheepishly. "You will think me a fool for saying this but I have seen the statues and portraits and sometimes I think Harry bears a certain semblance to Durran the first Storm King. Anyway, enough about my children, what about Joanna? And little Cersei and Jaime?"

"Oh, they aren't so little anymore," said Tywin. "His Grace commanded me to summon Joanna to come to King's Landing with my children. If you were staying here for the tourney to celebrate King Aerys' one full decade of rule, you would be able to see them."

I was about to retreat from there when I felt a sudden pressure on my arm and a hand clasped over my mouth before I could yell in shock. I turned around and saw that standing behind me – and only the Seven knew how long he had been there – was the King, also eavesdropping into the private conversation between his Hand and father.

The King raised a finger to his lips and gestured me to follow him. We walked in silence for several minutes, and I wondered if I should make a run for it, but something held me back. If the King meant me ill, he wouldn't lead me in such a clandestine manner to wherever we were going.

"So," he began, when we reached a vast underground cavern. "You have discovered the secret passages of the Red Keep. I should rightfully have you killed to preserve this secret."

I went to my knees. "I am yours to command, your grace," I said humbly.

"Yes, yes," he muttered. "If Steffon has instilled even an ounce of his loyalty in you, then I would be a fool to let it go to waste. What was your name again, boy? Haran?"

"Harren Storm, your grace," I said.

"Harren, eh… Besides, my Hand doesn't like you," mused Aerys, with a smile growing on his face. "If nothing else, keeping you around will piss off my overmighty servant. Can you pour wine?"

"Your grace?" I asked in surprise.

"If you are to be my cupbearer, you will need to learn how to pour wine without spilling," said the King. "Very well, it's not important - someone can teach you. You will tend to me during lunch and dinner daily. During your free time, you shall retreat to these secret passages as often as you can without arousing suspicion and report to me if you hear or see anything unusual. Do you understand?"

"I think so," I managed to say. "I am not sure how I will know if something is unusual."

The King shrugged. "Just use your brains. In time, you will get the hang of it."

And that was how I became the King's Spy in the Red Keep.

* * *

Over a week had passed before father came to see me. I saw him daily during lunch and dinner, as I stood behind the King, always ready to pour him wine when his cup was less than a third full, but we rarely spoke. Once when Tywin Lannister turned to me to refill his wine, the King raised a hand to stop me. "Have you need of a cupbearer of your own, Tywin?" the King asked sharply. "If so, one can be arranged as befitting your status but a royal bastard may only serve the King."

Father was also present but he never spoke to me during mealtimes. But now, he came to visit me in the Maidenvault, for the first time since our arrival. Oh, I had heard servants reporting to him about me but never had he personally stepped foot into the tower that was to become my home for the coming future.

He glanced around the hall and sighed. He saw the new maid assigned to Maidenvault - she was removing some old tattered drapes and replacing them with new ones at that moment - but she was just one person and there was only so much she could do.

Father asked, "How has it been for you? Serving the King."

"His Grace expect complete loyalty and dedication," I said honestly. "Sometimes, it is difficult but he can be fair as well."

I recalled when I informed the King that I overheard Grand Maester Pycelle forced a servant girl to bed, he grabbed me by the collar and warned me not to waste his time with such frivolous things. But when I told him the reason I told him was that servant was the Queen's chambermaid, the King released my collar and became pensive, wondering if there was some wider scheme between his queen and the Grand Maester, using the servant as their intermediary. He left me without another word but the next day, that girl was reassigned from being the Queen's personal chambermaid to the Maidenvault, to make the tower cleaner and more habitable, and Aerys' move had two simultaneous goals – to cut any common conduit between the Queen and the Grand Maester and to give me a reward. And that was how I first came into contact with someone from my memories of my original life for the serving girl was none other than Lily Evans.

"Be careful," said father, and I could see he wanted to say something more but then he decided against it. Sighing, he changed topics. "Several days ago, I sent for a knight from amongst my banners, someone appropriate to train you with the sword. He should arrive at dawn tomorrow and then I shall return to Storm's End." He was waiting for me to say something and when I didn't, he sighed. "I have no excuses for my failings towards you, son, but there is one thing I want to say – I loved your mother very much and I have loved you from the moment I set my eyes on you." He kissed my forehead and then took a deep breath. "Always remember, ours is the fury."

I was surprised by his final words. The way he said it, he almost claimed me as a Baratheon but it was too little too late. There was already a wall between us, and I was on the other side with King Aerys as my new lord and master.

I filed away all thoughts of my father and focused on the maid, who was struggling against the drapes, as I subtly pulled wind to assist her.

"Tell me about your childhood, Lily," I looked at the redhead.

"There's not much to say, Master Harren," she said, using a title that denoted an appropriate difference in status but without giving me the benefit of any royalty. "My father was a Tully soldier and my mother was a cook in Harrenhal. They met and fell in love, my mother started a small bakery in Harroway and gave birth to two daughters. Then, when the War of the Ninepenny Kings started, my father enlisted to serve with Ser Brynden Tully and he never returned – shortly after, my mother died of a broken heart. For a few years, my sister and I worked together to run our mother's bakery and we barely made by, but then one day she sold the bakery without my knowledge and ran away with some fat Pentosi merchant, taking all the gold with her. And now I am here, just another maid in a castle with hundreds of maids."

"If it makes any difference," I noted, "you are the prettiest maid in this castle."

She laughed and I quite liked the sound of her laughter. "You are a sweet boy," she said. "But it pains me that I am no longer allowed to serve my queen." A sad look came on her face. "Sometimes, I felt that despite all the ladies-in-waiting, I was her only friend in her own home."

I didn't say anything. She didn't know I had anything to do with her removal from service to the queen. But part of me was sickened to learn that the old pervert Pycelle had the gall to put his hands on the counterpart of Lily Evans and removing her from his path was worth it - Pycelle was cunning enough to realise the King had something to do with Lily being relocated and continuing his attentions towards her would bring him the ire of Aerys.

The next morning, father introduced me to my intended trainer in the sword. "Ser James," father introduced the man in the prime of his youth. "This is my son, Harren Storm." Again, the emphasis on my bastardry - it was beginning to get tiring but, I mused, perhaps that was my life now and I would never escape it. "He has won the King's favour and serves him as cupbearer so he will be busy during mealtimes but otherwise I leave him in your capable hands." He turned to me. "Harren, listen to Ser James. His uncle Lord Charlus Potter of the Hollow is an important banner to House Baratheon and it is most gracious of Ser James to take a break from his travels to train you."

Ser James winked at me. "Truth be told, the gold I get from House Baratheon for doing this will make my travels more enjoyable. But just to be very clear, I have only agreed to stay six moons before resuming my travels so your progress will determine very much on how much hard work you put into the training regime I set for your after my departure."

I nodded. "Thank you, sir," I said, suddenly struck by the fact that I had James Potter and Lily Evans in the same place – they were the birth parents of the immortal aspect of my spirit from a different life. While they didn't mean anything to me in this life, at least not as yet, I was fascinated by their presence in my life so soon and also that their proximity to each other could lead to the birth of Harry Potter's counterpart in this world. "I will try my best."

Ser James was given a chamber in the Maidenvault as well, and I saw from the outset signs of sparks between him and Lily. But then I realised Ser James was like that with literally every attractive girl who crossed his path and I decided against meddling between them in any manner whatsoever – I had more than enough on my plate as the King's private spy into the affairs at the Red Keep as it was, and I would soon discover the true depths of how justified the King's fears were. But before that, there was yet another secret I was to learn.

"Interesting," said Ser James later that night. "How long have you been able to do that?"

I turned to him in surprise. "What do you mean?"

In response, Ser James flicked his fingers and I felt a sudden sharp spike of wind rustle my hair. My eyes widened in surprise and I instinctively pulled the wind out of his control, and this time he looked surprised. I felt him try to take back control but my power was stronger but then he sent another wind spike straight into my nostrils and I gasped in shock and discomfort, allowing him to seize back the wind, and then he released it with a smile.

"So, House Baratheon did inherit Elenei's gift - the old houses of the stormlands had always wondered," he muttered. "Sit down, Harren, we have much to discuss. I believe your father is not aware of your gift?"

Knowing it was futile to pretend ignorance after our little wind duel, I shook my head. "I woke up one day and I could pull wind," I told him. "I knew it wasn't common and I kept it secret."

"Good," said James. "It is very important that you do keep it secret from everyone. This ability that you have – it marks you as a descendant of Elenei and Durran the first Storm King."

I nodded. "House Baratheon defeated the last Storm King and took his daughter for his wife."

"Yes," said James. "But between the first and last storm kings, many other houses in the Stormlands had intermarried with House Durrendon, and so we all share a common ancestor, Elenei, the daughter of the Wind Goddess. Your family will not know this for you came as conquerors and invaders and the girl taken by the first Baratheon Lord as his wife was but a child, unaware of the legacy of her bloodline, but we, the ancient houses of the Stormlands, remember and pass it down from generation to generation."

He paused to collect his thoughts. "It is well known that Elenei gave up her immortality to live a mortal life with her mortal husband but what is less known is she did not lose all her divine powers and it passed down to her child. When Elenei realised the divine powers she wielded would have overwhelmed her son's mortal shell, she prayed to her divine mother and the Wind Goddess, who had forgiven her daughter's choice to marry a mortal and share in his limited lifespan, came before her. Elenei begged her mother to take away the divinity that threatened her child's mortal life but the Goddess declined for she could not allow her own legacy to be undermined such. But the Wind Goddess would not abandon her daughter's pleas. She decreed that not all of Elenei's descendants would show this gift and for those who did, she would send to them an injured bird, her dearest creatures, during their childhood. Should the child prove his or her worth and tend to the bird and restore it to health on their own, that bird shall leave behind a feather, and whilst that child's skin touches that feather, he or she shall be able to manipulate wind and their mortal shell shall be strengthened with greater strength and durability to wield such power. If the child failed to tend to the bird to full health, their potential to command wind shall disappear and they shall become an ordinary mortal with no such gift or divinity." Ser James unclasped his cloak and unbuttoned the top buttons of his tunic to show a necklace with a feather attached to it against his chest.

I frowned thoughtfully. From memory, I recalled Stannis had once found an injured goshawk and he seemed determined to look after it but upon the ridicule of his great-uncle Ser Harbert Estermont, he abandoned the bird, and probably, from James' tale, his magical potential.

"It is seen as a great honour amongst the Potters and the other ancient houses with this potential for a child to find an injured bird," said James. "Back in the day, House Durrandon's successes and failures were always linked to whether there was a Storm King with the potential to command wind and how many of their banners showed a similar ability. In fact, I truly believe if at the time of Aegon's Conquest, there had been a Storm King with a company of Storm Warriors capable of commanding wind, the face of Westeros would now be completely different, dragons notwithstanding."

"But I didn't find any injured bird," I said. "And I don't need a feather." As if to prove myself, I used Telekinesis to lift a jug of water and gently tilt it to refill our goblets and then floated it back to its original place.

"Incredible!" Ser James breathed in wonder. "With nearly two decades of practice, I cannot even dream of doing something so controlled. Perhaps, the blood of House Durrandon runs stronger in you than others or perhaps your Targaryen blood has made it easier for you to access this ability – after all, the Valyrians were experts in the use of magic."

I nodded. I knew the reason was entirely different but if that is what he wanted to believe, that was good for me. "Father's choice has been most fortuitous," I said. "Would you teach me how to command wind as well, Ser James?"

"Of course," said Ser James. "In return, I wouldn't mind if you turn a blind eye if I bring the odd maiden back to my chamber from time to time."

I grinned at him. "As long as you keep the noise down."

* * *

My instruction in sword started at the same time as my instruction in wind manipulation. So far, I had been pulling wind in a manner that was purely instinctive but Ser James helped me see things in a more organised manner. The base ability – to send a gust of wind – was what he called a _wind blast_. Then, you could have various refined ways of sending wind blasts – such as a _wind punch_, like a long distance punch using wind in one small concentrated location, or a _wind swipe_, which affected a larger area and pushed objects or people backwards, or a _wind shield_, which was held in place and could deflect objects that came in contact with it. More interestingly, and clearly Ser James' personal forte was the _wind funnel_, where you could create a funnel to move objects along a pre-determined path. For instance, an archer could shoot an arrow while creating a wind funnel to ensure the arrow reached its intended target, even with bends and curves. But according to Ser James, the Storm Warriors of old didn't need arrows for they could send instead a _wind blade_, a sharp slicing air current that could cut through stone even - a feat that was beyond him.

As he showed me unique applications of wind, I picked them up with considerable ease that often stunned him. I didn't have the heart to tell him that my ability was well beyond his – for I had the full potential of an air elemental and would eventually even unlock abilities with other elements, but for now, I was happy to just learn what all I could from Ser James before he left on his travels.

"But truly, you do not want to use any of those abilities openly," said Ser James. "And therefore, it is the subtle ways of the wind that are more useful."

He showed me how he used wind to direct his movements, making them more agile, using wind to push him faster or jump a bit higher or just pull off an impossible footwork or hand-eye coordination that defied belief when one saw it. Moreover, a more advanced variant of the wind shield was a _wind armour_, like an invisible armour of air around one's body as one fought with the sword, so that anytime an opponent's weapon or fist came in contact with that armour, it would be deflected, and they would simply think they missed their target.

So, for a while I had fallen into a very specific routine. I would wake up at the crack of dawn and spend a few hours with Ser James. Then, I would have a quick bite and join grandmother and study about the history and customs of the Seven Kingdoms until she tired of me and I would then tend to my spying duty until lunch, when I attended to King Aerys again. The King lunched often with members of the Small Council who wished to discuss matters of importance or with other courtiers who had sought specific appointments. After the King finished lunch, I would have full freedom to go over the leftovers - of which there was always more than enough. Then, I would spend the day spying until dinner time, when I attended to King Aerys again. After dinner, I would give the King a brief update on anything of interest I had found out and then the King would dismiss me and go to his concubines, while I would continue spying or if Ser James was not out drinking, we would continue training with wind or discussing about various applications of wind. For instance, my ability to use wind to hear what people were discussing in a distance was new to him and one that I ended up teaching him.

Soon, I justified my role as the King's spy by discovering several things of importance.

For instance, I discovered that Lord Tywin Lannister had finally tired of the King going against his counsel and decided to deliberately give the opposite advice to what he wanted – so when King Aerys ruled against Tywin's counsel, he would actually be ruling in line with what Tywin desired. When I informed King Aerys that in the matter of the border dispute between House Blackwood and House Bracknell, the Hand was going to suggest House Blackwood but wanted the ruling to go with House Bracknell, to create a precedent that would benefit House Lannister in its own border dispute against House Tully, the King was enraged. In his fury, he flung his jug of wine at me and a sudden wind spike was what kept it from hitting my face although I was completely drenched in wine. He did not say a word to me but later I heard the entire court was stunned when the King welcomed Lord Tywin's counsel to rule in favour of House Blackwood and showered him with praise in his wisdom and made that ruling a binding precedent to be followed on all similar disputes going forward.

Another time, I discovered that the Master of Coin was taking bribes from nobles to award contracts to establish business in King's Landing or to reduce the taxes payable by them. The King was enraged and demanded me to obtain evidence while gripping my arm so tightly that it bruised for days. But I was able to do what he wanted by using my Telekinesis from the secret passage to remove some documents from the Master of Coin's personal files from his locked chamber and used wind to push the window open and floated the documents out. When I handed them to the King, he did not say a word to me but the next day I learnt the Master of Coin was imprisoned for corruption with the King claiming the credit for unearthing it, something that his supposedly capable Hand had either missed or condoned, and a new rule was made that only nobles could take seats as Hand, Master of Coin, Master of Laws or Master of Ships in the Small Council, to remove the temptation of corruption.

But all of those things paled against the great conspiracy I quite accidentally stumbled upon. I wasn't even in the catacombs but just simply wandering around when I saw something unusual – one of the King's favoured concubines was meeting in clandestine with a visiting Septon – I obviously used wind to pull their words to me.

"Do you have anything?" asked the Septon.

"Yes," said the other, revealing something. "The King gave this necklace to me for pleasing all of his abnormal urges last night. We must get this to Simon."

The Septon sighed as he took the necklace. "It pains me, my sweet sister, to hear of what you must endure at the hands of one belonging to that monstrous family… but well done."

"Do not worry about me, dear brother," she said bravely. "I only play my part – as do the rest of you – in bringing down the tyranny of House Targaryen and bringing them to justice for the role they played in the massacre of our family, House Toyne."

The Septon nodded. "With the gold we get from this, the Kingswood Brotherhood will buy weapons, armours and other resources needed to become a truly formidable company. The Targaryens will be punished."

I gasped in shock as I realised I had uncovered a major plot. The Kingswood Brotherhood led by the remnants of House Toyne were instrumental in a plot against the king and had infiltrated his personal chambers. I took that knowledge and waited patiently until after dinner that night but to my dismay a feast had been planned for that night as many guests had arrived and I wasn't sure if I would get the chance to speak to the King later that night. You see, whilst everything else was going on, Lord Tywin Lannister was arranging a grand tourney to celebrate a decade of King Aerys' reign for the period of stability and peace that he had brought to the people, and now his family had just arrived at court together with guests from all over the Seven Kingdoms and so the time was right for a feast.

I stood patiently behind the King, trying to catch his eye each time I went forward to refill his cup, but he only had eyes for one person that night. Lady Joanna Lannister. And to be fair, one couldn't blame him, for she was a stunning lady. But while he couldn't cease staring at her, he also insulted her most viciously, one time, going so far as to asking if nursing her children had ruined her breasts? When Aerys said those words, I saw Tywin Lannister's face turn from an irritated frown to complete expressionless – as if he were made of stone and I knew then that Aerys was doing this the wrong way – Tywin Lannister was not a man he wanted to make an enemy of.

The King finally turned to me with an exasperated voice. "What is it, boy? You have been distracting me all through the feast. Speak freely."

I hesitated, not knowing whether the King truly intended me to speak openly or was this another one of his unpredictable mood swings when he just wanted to lash out at someone.

"I trust everyone here," said Aerys. "After all, everyone I can see here are family and servants." He glanced at Tywin Lannister as he said 'servants' and then he turned to me. "So, in the interest of full disclosure to those who have my absolute trust, this boy has been serving me in a dual capacity. He has been my eyes and ears in the Red Keep, reporting directly to me of things that very few others have deemed important to apprise their King. From unfortunate alliances to secret manipulations to inappropriate dalliances, this boy has proven himself to me, despite my Hand's insistence that I should send him away. Let this be the ultimate test – if what the boy reveals now proves to be useless, then I shall listen to Tywin's counsel and the boy shall be banished from the royal court. However, if what he says proves to be useful and something my Hand ought to have known…" He glanced at Tywin. "I will require House Lannister to pardon half of the gold owed to it by the Iron Throne."

"Your grace," Tywin started to protest but when he saw Aerys' glare, he sighed. "As you command."

The King turned to me with a sharp look that promised punishment if I didn't have something good. But fortunately what I had was of the highest significance. I glanced at the people gathered there. The King was in the high seat with the queen and his heir Prince Rhaegar Targaryen on either side. Grandmother sat next to the Queen while Tywin Lannister sat next to Prince Rhaegar Targaryen. Tywin's family, a bunch of other nobles, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and a few members of the Kingsguard were all present there.

"Your grace, all I wanted to report was," I swallowed uneasily, "that the Lady Malania is sending treasure from the castle through her brother who is here in the guise of a Septon to their other brother Simon Toyne."

The name Simon Toyne drew sharp breaths for he had already acquired much notoriety in his stand against House Targaryen. At the moment, he had been outlawed for speaking ill of the King's line, for sedition and treason, but there was some talk of him beginning to draw other outlaws to his side.

"What proof do you have?" asked Tywin.

I turned to the King. "I saw her hand a necklace with a large red stone in the middle to the Septon." I knew he didn't need real evidence and describing that necklace would be sufficient for him as he would have gifted her privately. His conviction was sufficient.

The King's eyes widened in shock and it was clear to everyone that he now believed me. "She stole it from me," he said, although no one believed him and realised he had gifted it to her. "Summon that wench. I shall have the truth out of her own mouth."

Ser Harlan Grandison left although I wondered if someone younger should have been sent instead of that old knight. And sure enough he returned after twenty troubled minutes of silence, with a grave expression.

"Your grace, when I asked Lady Malania to follow me, she nodded and said she just needed to wear a more appropriate gown… I had no indication to believe otherwise… but after several minutes of silence, I walked inside her chamber and saw she… she had stabbed herself in the heart with a knife."

The King slammed his fist on the table in fury. "How could this happen?" he yelled. "How could a member of a family that is sworn against House Targaryen get within my chambers?"

"You invited her to your bed," muttered the Queen, and the King turned to her with a murderous glare, and I wondered why would she be so foolish as to tempt his wrath. Did she not know any better? "No, Aerys, I shall have my say. You brought her in and the Seven alone know what evil she has done. I cannot stand this any longer. If you must have your mistresses, then fine, but house them somewhere other than next door to your Queen. And for the Mother's Sake, do not blame me for the loss of our children when it appears the hand that brought their murderer in might have been –" Aerys slapped her.

"Father!" Prince Rhaegar reached out and grabbed his father's arm before he could hit his queen again. "Enough of this madness."

"Mad, am I?" Aerys snapped, turning hateful eyes at his son. "Aerys, the Mad King, am I? Is that what you want me to be called, son, so you can ride as a shining knight to save the realm from the madness of the Mad King?"

"No, father, that is not what I want," Rhaegar sounded tired. "We are not alone here."

Aerys looked around and slowly lowered his hand. He turned to the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard Ser Gerold Hightower and barked out, "Find this Toyne Septon… I want the Red Keep cleansed of every potential traitor." He turned to Tywin Lannister. "As my Hand, I name you responsible for this mess. I want it sorted by morning." He then turned around and started leaving, pausing only to turn to me, "You, boy, what are you waiting for? Do you need some kind of special invitation? Follow me."

I didn't hesitate and quickly sprang into action. As I walked, I saw the eyes of Tywin Lannister follow me with an inscrutable expression while his two young children – about my age but with greater innocence – just looked at me in confusion.

The King walked to the Maidenvault, a place he probably hadn't been ever before in his life, but at that time it seemed like he simply had nowhere else to go. "I told them to clean this place," he muttered distastefully as he walked into the hall. "Why have they not replaced these old and crumbling furniture?"

I didn't know how to answer and remained silent and after a few moments, the King sighed, "My list of allies runs thin. It appears I cannot trust my Hand, my Queen or even my son now and I do not know which of my Kingsguard would choose to keep faith with me over one of them. You are a child and yet - I find that I need to be certain of your loyalty to me, boy."

"How can I prove my loyalty, your grace?"

"You cannot," said the King. "But I can." He was silent for a few moments and then he nodded. "They have all told you time and again that as a bastard you will never amount to anything, no?"

I nodded, as my ears turned pink.

"My Hand sees you as an inconvenience that should be gotten rid of," said the King. "My Queen and my Heir probably did not even know of your existence until tonight. Yes, my aunt feels responsible for your future but she too does not see you reach beyond the confines of your birth - same as your own father." Every word he said felt like another nail into my dignity and ego and the thing was, he knew it. "But I am not like any of them, boy, for I am King. And I have dragon dreams in which I can see beyond the veils of reality," he said, and I was surprised by the intensity and gentleness of his voice, "I see your worth perhaps better than even you do."

I drew a sharp breath. Could it be that he knew my abilities?

"For years, I have had the same dream… I see a lion stand watching with glee while hounds butchered dragon cubs… but seven days before your arrival, the dream changed and for seven nights in a row, I saw the same dream… I saw a winged stag push back the hounds."

I gasped in surprise.

"At first, I used to believe Lannister was behind the deaths of my children but then I knew this wasn't a dream about the past but a prophecy for the future," he said. "And I know in my heart that the winged stag is you."

"Your grace," I didn't know how to respond, but he was correct for my elemental form was supposed to be a winged stag.

"So, Harren Storm, I know they are wrong," he began slowly. "And I shall see you rise to your full potential because of this prophecy I have seen in my dreams. You can be certain of my intent due to the dream I just told you and – well – if you now choose to betray me, you will only be hurting yourself."

And so, my loyalty turned towards Aerys, who would one day be known with moniker he had thrown around earlier that night, Aerys, the Mad King.

* * *

The tourney was rather anticlimactic, especially when the King refused to make an appearance, and the Hand was left with a crowd of displeased smallfolk who had hoped to cheer their King. I went to see parts of it on the first day when the melee and the archery took place, mainly because Ser James was participating in the archery, and I wanted to place a rather hefty bet on him. Of course, the fact that I knew Ser James had also placed a bet on him to make even more gold for his travels, and we both knew he was going to win using wind manipulation was not strictly speaking ethical, but who cared.

There was one surprise I hadn't expected.

"Harren, over here!" a familiar voice called out and I saw Robert who had grown several inches since I last saw him.

I rushed towards my half-brother. "Robert! I didn't know you were coming."

"I wrote to Storm's End but by the time father's raven arrived, telling me he had sent you here, it was too late as we were already departing," said Robert. "This is Ned Stark. I have told you about him before, no?"

Only a million times, I mused, but I nodded and shook hands with Ned Stark, who looked an unlikely friend for Robert to have, much more serious and the type who wouldn't look so kindly upon unethical things. But I could be wrong.

"Harren's my brother," said Robert. "My half-brother, to be frank, but he's a lot more fun than Stannis and I like him more."

"Don't let your mother hear you compare your trueborn brother to the bastard," I shot back with a smile and Robert nodded in agreement.

"I won't tell her if you don't," he laughed.

"You lads up for a wager? I was going to find the bookmaker."

"I am not sure that is a good idea," began Ned, as I had expected but Robert was grinning from ear to ear.

"Sure, I have three gold dragons," said Robert.

"I have ten," I said, all the gold was given to me by father before his departure. "I am putting it all on my trainer, Ser James Potter."

"Of the Hollow?" Robert seemed surprised. "I have never heard of Ser James participate in archery before. That's a fair amount of gold to put on a rookie."

"This may be his first tourney, Robert, but he's no rookie," I mentioned.

"I will put my gold on old Fletcher Dick," said Robert. "He was likely winning archery tournaments even before Ser James was born."

"Ha!" I grinned, but privately somewhat anxious. Fletcher Dick was actually renowned in all the Stormlands and the Crownlands as the finest bowman in Westeros, having won over a dozen archery tournaments, and I suddenly wondered if he too had some kind of Air Elemental ability. Ah well, the dye was cast, I mused, or more appropriately the arrow was released - I couldn't walk away from my strong words of faith towards Ser James now.

As the three of us wandered around the grounds where the tourney was being held, we saw various stalls set up by merchants from all over Westeros, and in some cases, even beyond Westeros. So, by the time we reached the bookmaker, Robert was already down to one gold dragon, having spent the rest of his gold on food and drinks and to be fair to him, he insisted on buying for all three of us. There was one thing you had to say about Robert – he lived life to the full and he made sure he made his friends do so as well.

"What are the odds on Ser James Potter for the archery?" I asked, asking the first bookmaker I saw.

"Ah, young master," the man looked at the three of us well-dressed young boys and probably thought he had some easy money in the near future, "Welcome to Bagman's, the preferred bookmakers in the tourneys of Westeros since 110 AC. I, Ludovic Bagman, shall ensure the three of you get the best odds on your preferred wagers."

I tried not to look impressed at finding yet another Harry Potter counterpart and feigned an air of impatience. "Ser James Potter for the archery," I repeated.

"James Potter?" Ludovic sounded surprised. He looked at his charts and raised an eyebrow in delight. "I can offer you excellent odds for that. Twelve to one."

I took out my ten gold dragons and Ludovic's eyes widened in shock. I could see that he was suddenly anxious – if I won the wager, he would need to pay me a proper fortune of 120 gold dragons, more gold than what the vast majority of smallfolk would see in their lifetime.

"Are you certain?" he asked circumspectly. "May I suggest a safer bet, like Old Fletcher Dick? If you put your gold behind him, you will still earn a full gold dragon on top."

I shook my head. "Ser James Potter," I repeated. "Otherwise, I can find a different bookmaker."

Robert, meanwhile, was off the idea of a bet. "So, by that accounting, I will stand to win a silver moon but I could lose my gold. I think I'll save my gold for ale and… other things."

But I took my signed receipt with Bagman's stamp and proceeded to the arena where the melee was about to begin. The melee was what got the smallfolk most interested as many of their own number were permitted to participate. Both the melee and the archery had hefty rewards in gold; whereas the only reward for jousting was the opportunity to name a maiden as the Queen of Love and Beauty and to open the dances before the feast with her and the risk of losing was to forfeit your weapons, armour and horse to the one who defeated you – although it was common practice for the victor to name a nominal ransom for the return of the armour, weapons and horse. Therefore, jousting was often seen as a noble's pursuit whereas the smallfolk took their chances at the melee and the archery.

"Who's that?" asked Ned, pointing at a savage looking man.

"Big Belly Ben," said Robert. "He's a legend in the tavern strong man competitions."

"And that's Ser Willem Whent of Harrenhal," said Ned.

"Oh, yes!" said Robert. He explained for my benefit. "We met him briefly in a tourney at Gulltown last year. He fought so well and eliminated half the warriors and continued fighting to the very end despite a broken ankle that Lord Marq Grafton knighted him even though he didn't win the melee."

"Is it normal for noble knights to participate in melees?" I asked curiously.

"Not normal," said Robert. "But the Whents are different. They were only recently ennobled a few generations ago and although Harrenhal is the largest castle in Westeros, the Whents do not have the gold to keep it in good repair. I hear Lord Arthur and Lady Molly Whent have been desperately seeking betrothals for their six sons with wealthy merchants who would be able to offer them a suitable dowry."

I raised an eyebrow in surprise. The Whents were clearly the Weasleys of this world. But how did that work? The counterpart of William Weasley was already in his prime of youth whereas the counterpart of Harry Potter wasn't even born – so, perhaps, I mused, the people have counterparts but they may not be in the same place in the timeline – that was annoying, what if I never got to meet the ones I was most interested in seeing? Such as, Hermione, Fleur, Ginny, Nymphadora and any other attractive girl from that life, to be honest.

The melee was fun and somewhat brutal and although we were fascinated by it, both Robert and I booed in disgust when one man attacked Ser Willem from behind while three others charged at him from the front – clearly, they wanted to take out the nobleman before they fought each other.

"It's in our blood, Harren," explained Robert. "They called great grandfather Lyonel the Laughing Storm for he would laugh as he struck down his opponents. You and I are like him – _for ours is the fury and not the coward's trick_."

But the melee kept fascinating us as Ser Willem managed to fend off the concentrated attack on him long enough for the others to get bored and start fighting amongst each other until eventually Ser Willem won the melee. I cheered him together with Robert and Ned and half the audience – not because he was a noble – but because he had fought with greater spirit than anyone else in there and everyone knew it.

"It's the archery next!" I was excited.

The archery competition had a dozen participants who had made it through the qualifying round to the main tournament. Over a series of elimination rounds, the archers kept aiming for individual targets at progressively greater distances, with the worst one eliminated each round. Until finally, it was down to Fletcher Dick against Ser James Potter. The final round was one of moving targets – and Ser Barristan fired three arrows up in the air in turn and each of the finalists would take turns to try and hit the moving arrow.

Fletcher Dick missed the first time by a fair distance but he barely missed it by an inch the second time and he hit the moving arrow the third time, bringing the crowd to their feet. But clearly he was not an Air Elemental so I had nothing to be afraid of. When Ser James took aim, the applause was considerably lacklustre but I felt and could just about visualise him channel wind, creating a funnel that would take his arrow along a path that would collide with the moving arrow. But he fired another arrow after that and then a third one, each through different funnels, and each perfectly measuring the change in trajectory by the previous arrow, and the end result was, Ser James hit Ser Barristan's arrow, and then hit his first arrow and then he hit his second arrow. For several moments, there was complete silence and then the crowd erupted like nothing I had heard before.

I ignored the cheers and made my way towards the bookmaker, who was hastily beginning to shut his stall.

"Mr Bagman," I called out. "I would like to collect my winnings."

"Ah, you s-see, about th-that," he stammered. "I am not sure you were allowed to participate by your parents, so let's just call it evens and I'll be off." He tossed me my 10 gold dragons back. "I have to leave now."

I sent a wind swipe, making him trip and fall face first into the mud. "Help!" I cried out. "Is there a guard here?" I yelled. "This man is cheating me of my winnings."

"Shh. Not so loud, you will ruin me."

"Bagman's!" someone spat in disgust, another bookmaker I assumed. "Never trust a Bagman, lad. I would not trust him to honour even a blood debt. Now, do you have a witness?"

"I, Robert of House Baratheon, am a witness as is my friend here, Eddard of House Stark," Robert called out.

Bagman's face turned deathly pale when he realised he had tried to cheat someone who had connections with two great houses.

"But that is beside the point," I said. "I am sure we can take this to the King and explain to him that a bookmaker tried to cheat his cupbearer."

"You win," sighed Ludovic Bagman, now his face was completely drained of all colour. "I am ruined now, I hope you are happy."

I glared back at him. "If one bet could ruin you, I don't think you are particularly good at your job."

Later that night, I resumed my spying duty merely because I was tired of seeing everyone else drunk while I wasn't permitted to drink alcoholic beverages. I was just wandering around when I saw something unusual –

The Hand of the Tower was strangely empty, which was odd given Tywin Lannister and his family had excused themselves from the feast very early. Lord Tywin was easy to locate – he was in the Small Council chamber pouring over some urgent work the King had given him. But the whereabouts of the remaining Lannisters stunned me. I found the twins Cersei and Jaime in the dungeons, like any other children, clearly they were exploring the Red Keep as an adventure. But what shocked me was when I saw them, Jaime's pants were down and Cersei was fondling his little penis while her robes were also undone to reveal her bare chest.

They were barely six year old children and of course, this wasn't going to lead to anything much more than that, but to see them being sexually adventurous was quite troubling. I shuddered and decided to swiftly move on - this was wrong at so many levels and I had to simply get away from this unnaturalness.

But as I made my way back to the Maidenvault, I found their mother, entwined in the arms of the King, in an unused chamber close to mine. They had clearly been engaged in sexual activities and I took a deep breath as I saw the beautiful bosom of Joanna Lannister.

"Do you forgive me for my insensitive words at the feast, my dear?" asked the King.

"Of course, my sweet king, I know you spoke out of jealousy," Lady Joanna whispered into his chest where her head was nestled.

Aerys looked a little mad. "It irks me so much that the woman that has my heart must belong to my servant."

"I know," she said. "But you must let him come home from time to time, my sweet. I need a husband and it isn't fair to me to be alone all the time whilst you make love with the Queen and your many mistresses. In return, I promise," she kissed his cheek, "every time I come to court, I will find a way. I will find you."

Aerys sighed. "Perhaps, you are right. A little distance between myself and my Hand might ease our relationship. Very well, I will give him leave to return to Casterly Rock and tend to affairs of the Westerlands, if he is of such mind. He can dispense with his duties as Hand of the King from there."

"Thank you, your grace," she said.

"Now, you must return to your chambers," said Aerys. "My Hand should soon be finishing up the 'urgent' task I gave him for tonight."

Both Aerys and I watched as Lady Joanna Lannister got up and gracefully slid back into her dress and then turned around and left. I remained very still for I knew I had stumbled upon a secret that could cost me my life and for a moment, Aerys had stilled and turned his gaze towards the general direction where I was standing but then he too got up and grabbed his robes and departed swiftly.

I wasn't sure if he detected my presence and decided to ignore it or if there was nothing more to that look but I sure as hell wasn't going to stay there and find out.

The Red Keep was full of secrets and I was fast becoming privy to many of them.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The death of Prince Aegon shocked everyone, including me, for there had been no indication at all of the cause of it. The King summoned me after three days of subjecting himself to isolation. Already, I was seeing less and less of him – as a sudden growth spurt had made it awkward for me to continue to serve as a cupbearer and I had been relieved of that duty. And Aerys' primary purpose of always having me nearby was to annoy Tywin Lannister, so when Tywin returned to Casterly Rock after the tourney with his family, Aerys' need of having me physically around diminished and he only cared to see me if I had anything to report.

That morning, he had a single question for me: _Had I seen or heard anything unusual?_ To both our dismay, I shook my head in the negative - I knew Prince Aegon's death was fated - he was one of the three options of a mortal host that the Master of Death had and he had chosen me - or rather, what I used to be - and as a result, Prince Aegon was fated to die. Oddly, the only emotion I could feel about that was relief. I know I wasn't the same person I had been before the spirit merger; nor was I the Master of Death; but rather an amalgamation of both. But I was alive, and for that I rejoiced in my heart and mind.

The King dismissed me and did not call for me again for such a long time that I started fearing he was beginning to be suspicious of me as well. But there was nothing I could do except carry on with my life and my duties.

One day, when Lily was setting out dinner and Ser James had gone out drinking in King's Landing - I turned to her and said. "Join me." She looked at me with a confused expression. "That haunch of venison looks delicious but is too big just for one - I would hate for it to go to waste."

Lily hesitated. "It would not be appropriate for me to sit at your table, Master Harren."

"Don't be silly," I said. "I am a bastard; you are a maid. There is no reason why we cannot be friends and friends can dine together."

She looked anxious but when I kept pressing on, she relented and took a seat. But she only took a very tiny portion of the food.

"If you could ever leave this place," I asked, making conversation. "What would you most like to do?"

Lily smiled. "That's an easy question," she said. "My happiest memories are from childhood helping my mother with her bakery. Even with Petunia - before she sold the bakery and ran away with all the gold - I still have some fond memories. That is my answer - I would like to start my own bakery." But then she sighed. "But it is a dream that will never come true. The best I can hope is to perhaps one day be given an opportunity to assist the head cook and maybe get a role in the kitchen." She looked at me. "What about you, Master Harren? What are your dreams?"

What were my dreams? To rise above my status and build a name worthy of the great powers I possessed. To win the hearts of pretty maidens and have them yearn for me. To be counted amongst the greatest knights and warriors that the realm had ever seen.

But before I could respond to her, the door opened and Ser James stepped inside, walking unevenly, as he looked rather drunk. Lily immediately sprang out of her seat and took a more deferential stance. Ser James blinked a few times and then looked angrily at Lily. "You have r-ruined me," he slurred as he raised a finger. He took a few steps and stumbled but I sent a subtle wind blast to help him regain his footing. He raised his other hand with some effort as if counting in his mind and pointed four fingers. "Four maidens - they wanted to see the M-Maidenvault - I could have had any… or all… and that's - that's just t-tonight." He laughed drunkenly and then his gaze fell on me and the table. "Oh, food, goody." He rushed to the table and grabbed what remained of the venison and took a bite from it directly. "Mmm - what d'ya know - I was starving…" He started attacking the venison ravenously.

"Ser James," Lily started - her voice very uneven.

Ser James turned to her, dropping the venison back on the tray. "You - you have ruined me!" he declared, as if just seeing her for the first time. He shook his head. "Like one who has seen the sun can find no star bright enough - I now find no joy looking at any maiden unless she be you."

Lily opened her mouth but no words came out - she was looking at Ser James with a strange expression. Ser James moved towards her, unable to take two straight steps, and he took her hand and stared into her face. "Would that I could stare this face for the rest of my life? I would be the luckiest man that ever lived." He raised her hand to his lips and gently kissed and let go.

Lily lowered her face. "If you command me to your bed -" her voice shook with self-disgust.

I sent a wind swipe, tripping Ser James and he fell down face first. Lily immediately knelt to help him. As he got to his feet, he looked confused for a few moments and he blinked a few times. I took a goblet of water and walked towards him. "Drink," I said. When he looked like he was going to protest, I sent a tiny wind swipe up his nostril. He gasped and spluttered and grudgingly took the goblet and finished it. I led him to a seat. "Now, sit." He stank of ale - his clothes, his breath, his hair - everything stank. I refilled his goblet and forced him to drink again.

After a few minutes, the glazed expression on Ser James's face turned less vacant as the food and water finally cut through the alcohol a little bit. He looked at both of us and then frowned before turning to me. "Harren - why does she look so scared? Did you hurt her?" He then looked aghast as he asked in a quiet whisper, "Did I hurt her?" He was still drunk but had regained just enough of his faculties to be more aware of what was going on around him.

"You professed your strong desire for her," I said. "She asked if you were commanding her to your bed. Then, you tripped and fell."

Ser James' eyes widened in shock. He jumped out of his seat and looked at Lily intently. "Please pardon my behaviour, m'lady," he said, sounding contrite. "My current state may not suggest so but while I have seduced many a fair lass and frequented brothels as well, I have not ever - and I shall never - command an unwilling woman to my bed. Please do not look at me with frightened eyes - it hurts my heart terribly when you do so."

Lily's lips trembled and she nodded slowly.

"I think we should all get some sleep," I said finally. "I will help you to your chamber, Ser James."

He looked at me with gratitude and as I helped him to his chambers, he looked at me. "Did you make me fall?" he asked.

I nodded. "I did not know how you would have responded."

Ser James looked at me silently. "I am not sure if I know that either. Thank you, Harry." He closed his eyes.

But as the days progressed, I saw a shift in Lily's treatment of Ser James. While she had always been diligent and conscientious, now there was just a note of tenderness when she looked at Ser James or responded to him. For his part, Ser James had stopped going out to the taverns and focused his entire time in the Red Keep. Once, I even saw him give Lily a bouqet of flowers but she had laughed and said a maid couldn't bring flowers back to her quarters so instead she put them on a vase in the Maidenvault - and that became a frequent pattern as the Maidenvault began filling up with flowers. But despite Lily never taking the flowers back, every time I saw her look at them, there would be a smile on her face.

That also resulted in a change in my relationship with Lily - I would often invite her to join us for meals and increasingly, there would be fewer objections from her. Ser James also made it more of a point to be present during mealtimes and we would often joke, talk and have a laugh about something or other. All in all, I was quite enjoying the company of the two of them.

One day, as I returned from my morning lessons with grandmother, I saw Lily and James walk upstairs - I wouldn't have followed them if they were going to Ser James' chamber but they went even further up, so turning invisible I followed to see what they were up to. They went all the way up to the very top of the Maidenvault.

The top chamber - the solar - was completely empty and had massive open windows that gave it a very airy and open feel. From one side, you could see the sea and the view was rather peaceful. Ser James had prepared a basket of lunch - bread, cheeses and fruitcake with a jug of wine. I only paused long enough to hear Lily laugh at some joke made by Ser James and when I saw they were truly just having a nice, romantic and relaxed picnic, I left.

I didn't hear from them at all that day - and the next morning, when I was sitting at an empty breakfast table, I saw Lily rush out of Ser James' chamber wearing the same clothes she had worn the previous day. She had an alarmed look on her face but it couldn't break through the happy smile as she rushed to get the breakfast. I simply raised an eyebrow and when she blushed, I simply gave her a knowing smile.

Who knows, perhaps there would be a counterpart of Harry Potter in this world after all.

* * *

Grandmother's death took us all by shock. I hadn't expected it but one day she went to sleep and the next morning, she was gone. I couldn't believe it was natural - she was still so very young - only just touching on 50 years old - but then I reminded myself that this was a medieval time where 50 would be considered quite the age. There were many - mainly amongst the nobility - who lived many more decades - but 50 would not be considered young. Besides, Grand Maester Pycelle conducted a thorough check and announced that there was absolutely no signs of poison or foul play.

That saddened me - as I stood by myself at her funeral to pay my last respects. King Aerys had been correct - even she had never expected me to rise above my birth but she had brought me here and she had personally educated me for almost a year. For that I would treasure her memory.

She wasn't the only person I was about to lose. My time with Ser James was also about to come to a stop as he had already delayed going on his travels and decided to stay a full year – the official reason being he wanted to get me sufficiently up to standard so I could practise on my own – but I had seen a red-haired maid creeping out of his chambers at the crack of dawn almost on a frequent basis now - and I knew the real reason for his delay was Lily, not me.

"Would you take me as your squire one day?" I asked curiously as Ser James and I paused to catch our breaths after a particularly intense morning of training.

Ser James considered my question for a few moments and then he shook his head. "No, I shan't."

I was taken aback for I thought he liked me and all the insecurity of being rejected by my father for being a bastard returned in my heart. "Why wouldn't you?" I asked sharply. "I nearly defeated you in our final duel there."

That was true. Although Ser James could have wiped the floor clean with me if we were just using our physical strength and skill with the sword but when he permitted using wind, I was so much more powerful than him, I could easily seize control of any wind channel he was creating and use it against him. I was also learning to charge my movements with wind to increase the speed and strength that it neutralised the difference in age and physical strength.

"That is precisely the reason why I said no," said Ser James. "Look, Harry," he said, a nickname he had started using when we were in private, "it would be an honour to guide you in your journey to knighthood but alas, soon there will not be anything left for me to teach you. There is nothing you would gain by being my squire. You are meant for much greater things."

I sighed. I could see the wisdom in his words but part of me would have preferred to just be Ser James Potter's squire, to travel Westeros in a bid to locate the best taverns and the prettiest wenches in the land.

"I will miss you," I said, for that was our final day before he left. "Although I daresay there is a redhead maid who will miss you even more than me."

Ser James blushed but didn't say anything.

"Perhaps, one day you will make an honest woman of her," I continued teasingly, "or more likely, she will make an honest man of you."

James turned to me with heavyset eyes. "Alas," he sighed. "My fate is not in my hands and I shall eventually marry the woman my uncle chooses for me. As I am his heir and the future Lord Potter, it would not be appropriate for me to be married to a mere maid."

We heard a crashing sound and turned in horror to the doorway where Lily had just come in to hear our words and the jug of water slipped from her fingers and a look of utter heartbreak was on her face.

"Lily," Ser James tried to get up.

"No," she said, and I had to marvel how she was keeping her voice calm despite the streams of tears on her face. "I knew – some part of me knew that nothing more would come of this but…" And the next moment, she wiped her face and with shaking fingers, she started cleaning the mess. "If you will need anything more from me, I will be in the kitchens, Master Harry, Ser James." She looked at me and bowed and then she bowed to Ser James very formally, but without meeting his eyes, and then she turned around and left.

I looked at Ser James with an exasperated expression. "You should go after her."

Ser James sighed. "You heard her," he said, although his voice also sounded broken. "She doesn't want to see me now." He sighed again. "Besides, my ship leaves at dawn and I haven't finished packing my things – this journey couldn't have come at a better time." He tried to smile at me but the expression was rather strained. "Do not forget to practice everything I have shown you, even the wind kicks you are not so fond of."

Only a day after Ser James' departure a new maid was assigned to the Maidenvault – a plain-faced girl slightly dim but utterly loyal to the steward of the Red Keep who wouldn't answer any of my questions, and would spend as little time as possible in the Maidenvault, so I had to rely on my spying to discover what had happened to Lily.

And what I learnt stunned me.

Lily had been dismissed from service upon being discovered that she was pregnant. The fate of maids in the royal palace was very deterministic. They were supposed to look pretty and get the work done quietly without any fuss. If someone powerful took them to bed, they usually had no other choice unless they had someone even more powerful as a benefactor but they were always supposed to take the adequate precautions so as not to conceive a child, and if they did get with child, their days in the royal palace was over. After all, how would they get the job done to the same quality when they were pregnant and later had a young child to look after?

I was annoyed, not just at the silly rules and at Ser James but also at Lily. I had thought towards the end we were becoming friends and for her to just leave without saying goodbye was a little hurtful.

So, I decided to take matters into my own hands and I set out one night, in the cover of darkness and within my armour of invisibility. Several of the secret passages led beyond the Red Keep and so I was able to get away without any hindrance.

Invisibility was very useful indeed - but I had found during my time as the king's spy that the secret passages gave me an advantage that invisibility didn't - the ability to avoid closed doors and locked gates.

Flea Bottom was a maze of twisty, unpaved alleys, unkempt and with an even worse stench than the rest of King's Landing. I heard someone in court describe it as the smell of pigsties and stables and tanner's sheds mixed in with the smell of winesinks and whorehouses. When I first received the information, I had dreaded she would have been forced to work in a whorehouse but she wasn't quite that desperate yet.

Dropping my invisibility, I walked into the alehouse and some eyes fell on me for a child my age had no business being there.

"Master Harry!" Lily was shocked and she rushed out from behind the bar to come to me.

As I saw her, I felt a sadness in my heart. Her beauty was marred by exhaustion and the lines beneath her eyes had grown significantly while her hair, once pretty and lustrous, was already unkempt and rough. She wore an apron that stank of old ale and gravy.

"You shouldn't be here," she sounded outraged.

"Neither should you," I pointed out.

"I am – I _was_ just a maid," she said. "How can I not belong here so long as I can get honest work?"

"In that case, I am a bastard, and I don't belong anywhere at all," I said. "I want to apologise on behalf of Ser James. He is a fool and he doesn't see what he is giving up."

Lily opened her mouth but then she closed it again. A few moments later, she smiled sadly at me. "I have made my peace with his decision," she said finally. "What we had was no different to what I have seen happen time and again in the royal court – some lordling takes a young maid to bed and the silly maid fills her head with fairy tales of a different life that she was never born for. I thought I was different… he was different… but in the end, we were no different to the others."

"There is one difference." I lowered my eyes to look at her belly. There was very little visible signs yet but she turned red slightly. "You carry his heir."

"I carry a bastard," she replied scathingly and then she cringed. "I am sorry."

"No offence taken," I said. "I too have made peace with my life. Look, Lily, I will come straight to it. You cannot have your old life back and James is being a twat so you can't have what you deserve… but I want to think we became friends and I can't see you like this."

"Of course, we are friends," she said and leaned closer to kiss my forehead. "I have missed you so much since leaving the Red Keep."

"Yet, you didn't come to say goodbye," I pointed out, making her turn a shade of guilt. "Anyway, I have an offer for you. Something not quite what you deserve but at least better than this."

She looked perplexed. "What offer?"

"I have purchased a lot in the Street of Flour that now has a sign saying _Lily's_," I said. "All it needs is someone to run it, preferably with the name Lily with experience of running a bakery."

Lily's eyes widened and her mouth opened in shock. "You must be joking."

I shook my head. "I made a lot of gold by winning bets during the tourney," I said. "But I don't really have any need of it so I decided to invest it in a friend who I believe in. There's also ten gold dragons for any start-up costs but after that you are on your own." In a way it made some twisted sense - the winnings came out of my bet on Ser James so it felt right to use it in this manner.

"You can't do this!" she said. "It's a lot of gold. I can't just take it from you."

"You are not," I said. "I am giving it to you. But not freely."

She looked at me curiously.

"I will write up a contract," I said. "The property is in my name and I will also keep half ownership of the business and so you will keep half of all profits, after costs, expenses and salaries, in trust for me. I am not doing this out of charity, Lily, or just to help a friend. I see this as a get-rich-scheme. What do you say?"

Lily was silent.

"Okay, in addition, I want one more thing," I said. "If you give birth to a boy, I want you to name him after me. Harry for Harren. What do you say?"

Lily smiled and nodded.

* * *

The opening of _Lily's_ was a spectacular success. I had spread the rumour amongst the Red Keep serving staff that the Queen's former chambermaid Lily was opening a bakery and to my surprise, on the day of the opening, an important visitor arrived at the bakery.

Ser Harlan Grandison of the Kingsguard entered the bakery to the amazement of the smallfolk and he inspected the lot and the kitchen for hygiene and then he ordered a sample of everything. "The Queen tires of castle food," he said. "As she is unable to journey here on her own, she will place an order for delivery for herself and her companions if you could arrange on a weekly basis to Maegor's Holdfast?"

"I can deliver it," I offered.

So, the news spread that _Lily's_ was delivering to the Queen and her ladies and her popularity grew as all other rich folk wanted to say they also ordered from _Lily's_.

I also enjoyed my weekly visits to _Lily's_ to pick up the new delivery for the Queen and to check on her progress and occasionally make suggestions to add to her repertoire, such as treacle tarts, blueberry muffins and cheesecake, which were making a complete splash in the market. And each time, she would send new samples for the Queen and the weekly order would keep growing in quantity.

One day, Lily had a coinbag ready for me. "Your half of the profits for the month," she said proudly, happy to return something to me.

"How much is in there?"

"Five gold dragons," she said. "I know it isn't everything but it is a start."

"Five gold dragons," I muttered as I emptied the coins on the counter. "Hire someone to help you with the work." I glanced at her belly, which was beginning to show. "The business will suffer if you suddenly stop working without any replacement to pick up at the same quality." The look of affection she gave me was more than suficient profit for me.

The next week, Lily was not alone in the bakery but I was not prepared to see who were with her. While there was a somewhat familiar looking brown haired woman working in the kitchen area, it was the bushy haired girl behind the counter that caught my attention. Her face was as pretty as I remembered from my memory of another life although I had forgotten her buckteeth, which I felt rather added to her charm.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

Hermione – for I had no doubt this was her – looked to be slightly older than me but not by much and seemed very confident standing behind the counter.

"Oh, Harren, come here!" Lily called out when she popped her head back to see who had entered the bakery. "Let me introduce you to Jane and her daughter Hermione. They will be helping me out at the bakery."

"Pleased to meet you," I said distractedly, struggling to tear my gaze from Hermione, who was looking a little bit uncomfortable at my scrutiny.

Lily told me about them. Jane and her husband David Granger had just arrived from Old Town. David was a healer who specialised in childbirth and had arrived in King's Landing to see if the King would be willing to retain him but Grand Maester Pycelle had dismissed him without a proper interview or discussion, so now David was making ends meet by helping the Smallfolk and accepting what little payment they could afford so Jane was also looking for work to supplement the family income. Lily met them when she was seeking out a healer to know what she should be doing or not be doing with her upcoming childbirth and when she heard about Jane, she was quick to offer her employment at the bakery.

In a few weeks, we already cemented a firm friendship. I increased the frequency of my visits and would often engage in discussions with Hermione, who I learnt had taught herself to read and write from their time in Old Town and would eagerly collect any books the Citadel disposed of in the trash for being worn out copies.

Initially, our friendship was based entirely on my awareness of her love for knowledge and so I started bouncing off things I had learnt from grandmother past her - and surprisingly, despite not having any tutor she seemed to know much more than I did but there were certain key gaps in her knowledge that I could supplement. That resulted in a very quick start to friendship.

"Do you believe in magic?" I asked one day. The two of us were sitting outside, on a ledge, looking at the busy street go by. The shop was being managed by Jane and Lily, who were always fine for the two of us to go away for an hour or so, as both knew how friendless we were in the city.

"That's a difficult question to answer," she said. "The history of Westeros has so many accounts of legends that could only realistically be attributed to magic. Bran the Builder, Azor Ahai, Durran the Storm King… and then we have the Children of the Forest, greenseers and skinchangers… the people of Essos also speak of magic – there's a house of wizards somewhere far in the east and the Red Priests of R'hllor can do some magical feats. And of course, the dragonlords." She paused. "So, yes, I do believe in magic and that it existed in the past… but for some reason unknown to me, it has faded away from the face of the known world."

"What do you know about the first Storm King Durran?" I asked. "What magic could he do?"

"No, instead of him, I will tell you of the second Storm King, also named Durran, son of the one you spoke of, but also son of Elenei, daughter of the Wind Goddess," said Hermione. "One of the books thrown away by the Citadel had an account of the mightiest weapons forged by man. This includes a chapter on Valyrian steel swords - which they believed could only be forged in dragonfire. There was a chapter on Dawn - the greatsword of House Dayne that they made from the heart of a shooting star. In this book, there was a mention of the Hammer of Durran, son of Elenei, which he forged on the funeral pyre of Elenei and Durran, who died as they had lived, together. He named the hammer Fury and legend had it that the hammer gave its wielder superhuman strength, invulnerability in battle and the greatest Storm Kings could even use Fury's power to summon lightning."

"What happened to the hammer?"

"It was supposed to be passed down from father to son for many generations until the Storm King Durran XIII used it for great evil when they subjugated the wild houses of Cracklaw Point. The men were slaughtered and the women were raped and the children enslaved to carry out the whims of the Storm King and his vassals. When the Storm King raised Fury to strike down the leader of the wild houses, the hammer flew out of his hand. The voice of wind spoke in rage with words that all mortal men could comprehend – the Storm King was unworthy of the power of wind and only he who was worthy would be able to locate and wield the hammer. Then, the hammer flew away and since then it has not been found."

"I would like to find it," I said.

"You think you are worthy?" Hermione grinned at me.

"That depends on what you mean by worthy," I said. "Many generations of Storm Kings used it for battle to kill their enemies and conquer their lands and I guess the evil that follows war must have occurred then too. Why did that change during the reign of Durran the XIII? What did he do that was different to his predecessors? We need to know what made him unworthy and then we can understand who is worthy."

"I wish I could tell you but I do not have any more books to do any research," said Hermione.

I sighed. "I will see if I can find anything in the Red Keep." When Hermione's eyes perked up with a hungry look, I laughed. "Okay, I will bring them for you too, if I can."

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" she grabbed me in a quick embrace. "I haven't read anything new in so long."

When she was about to let go of me, I held on and kept the embrace for a few moments longer with one hand on the back of her head. Eventually, I let go and Hermione was looking at me with a strange look and I could feel from the wind that her breathing had become very rapid.

* * *

One day, I was practising with my sword when I saw something unusual. Prince Rhaegar Targaryen arrived at the training area with Ser Barristan Selmy, Ser Gwayne Gaunt and Ser Jonothor Darry of the Kingsguard behind him. I was surprised because Prince Rhaegar had never shown any interest in learning how to fight – his clear preference for the first 14 years of his life had been books and music - and of course a pretty maiden - but never had he shown any interest in learning how to fight. Now, for whatever reason, he had come out to the training area.

"Clear off, boy," Ser Jonothor yelled towards me, even though I was simply minding my own business in one corner with a wooden rotating target. "His Highness will be using this space now."

I frowned and my confused look gave some of them pause. I saw Ser Gwayne turn to his colleague with a scowl. "There is plenty space here for a dozen princelings to be trained, Jon," he said.

"Aye, a dozen princelings," said Ser Jonothor, "but scant space for the crown prince and a bastard."

When Ser Barristan was about to join in the protest, I decided it wasn't worth it to make enemies for such a stupid reason. "It's okay, I am done," I called out and sheathed my practice sword.

As I was going, Ser Jonothor called out, "And find somewhere else from tomorrow." I turned around pulling wind to give retribution but by then everyone was focused on Prince Rhaegar, so I released my grasp on wind and left them. Some battles just weren't worth fighting.

After a quick breakfast, having nothing better to do, I resumed my spying duties. The Maidenvault was very empty these days, now that Ser James and Lily were no longer here. Usually, a maid left a very basic breakfast in the morning while I was training and so I picked up a chunk of bread and nibbled on it as I pulled out the secret doorway and entered the catacombs of the Red Keep.

And I was instantly rewarded.

The castle staff was buzzing with gossip that morning. News had arrived that Lady Joanna Lannister had died in childbirth, giving birth to a hideous monster with tails and lion's claws. No, no, said another, who was certain they heard the Grand Maester tell the king the babe was born with a giant's head with beard. Another claimed those were all absurd tales and the babe was born with tiny legs and mismatched eyes, green and black, whilst another said the babe had both male and female genitals.

I raced down the passages to find the King who was in the Great Hall sitting on the Iron Throne. His eyes had a strange glint - one could say he looked slightly crazed - and I felt bad. The man had lost the great love of his life not too long after the death of his son. How many more tragedies would he face?

"Long have I seen in visions from the Seven the birth of the deformed one," one doomsayer was hissing out loud for the entire court to hear. "Great doom do I predict with this birth, a time of famine, plague and war. Heed my words, your grace, and take precautions."

The King waved his hand and the doomsayer lowered his head and another took his place. "What say you?"

"The babe shall be named Lord Tywin's Bane, or more aptly, Lionsbane, for he breaks the illusion of invulnerability of House Lannister," said the man.

The King smiled, although perhaps I was the only one who could sense his smile was a front, a cover against the inner turmoil he was going through, with news of the death of Lady Joanna.

"Yes, yes," said Aerys, for the whole court to hear. "This is naught else but divine punishment by the Seven to teach him some humility at last. For Lannister sought to make himself greater than the King and that is only permitted by the gods." He raised his hand. "I am tired, the royal court shall reconvene tomorrow."

I took a deep breath as I heard those words. No doubt they would spread across King's Landing by the end of the day and before the turn of the moon, they would have spread across Westeros to reach the ears of Tywin Lannister, the man who had orchestrated the complete annihilation of Houses Reyne and Tarbeck for humiliating House Lannister.

Nothing good could come out of this, I mused, but what could I do.

But something else plagued my mind. Around nine moons had passed since the day I had found Lady Joanna in the arms of the King. Was this deformed child of Targaryen blood? Or was I just overthinking and the babe was conceived of the many nights when Tywin fucked his wife, not the one occasion when King Aerys did so?

As the days progressed, I saw a shift in the King. He was drinking thrice as much as he used to and he had thrice increased the number of his mistresses, and every single one of them was blonde with big breasts, and I could see with one or two of them, there was a distinct resemblance to Lady Joanna Lannister.

"Sire," I made my presence aware to the King, who was in a drunken state of stupor.

The King turned to me with a start. "You, boy, you are still alive."

"Forgive me, sire, I haven't had anything to report and you had told me to stay away until your summons," I said.

"But you are here now so you have something to report?"

I nodded. "One of your mistresses, Lady Selina, has been overheard to say she has greater favour with you than the Queen and if she can give you two or three heirs, you might raise her status to equal the Queen herself."

"And?"

I hesitated. The old Aerys would have been enraged at the thought of someone daring to suggest they could be raised to equal status as a Targaryen.

"Do not waste my time with foolish tales of gossiping women, boy, or I will have you whipped!" he snapped at me. "Begone."

I hastily retreated from the King's chamber, closing the secret entrance behind me. He was becoming increasingly more volatile and harder to predict. Only the other day, he had ordered a visiting knight's tongue to be torn out with hot pincers for he had been overheard to say better a deformed son than a dead one.

But the one ray of light in my otherwise bleak days was my weekly visit to Lily's. Lily's pregnant belly was now massive and the birth wasn't far away. But more than Lily, it was Hermione who I longed to see.

"Here," I shoved a bag towards her. "No one will be missing these although I daresay some of them may be useless."

"Don't say that!" Hermione sounded outraged. "No book is useless. There is knowledge in them – perhaps, some may be outdated, but the knowledge of what people believed to be true during their time still gives us a unique perspective of their lives." She picked up a book and read the title with eager eyes. "_100 Common Herbs and their Uncommon Uses_. This is brilliant. Father might also like to read this. _Prophecies That May Yet Come to Pass_. Interesting!"

I had acquired both books from Prince Rhaegar's personal collection – pissed off that he had taken over my training time, I had snuck into his private chambers one morning and found it was full of books and musical instruments. So, I stole two books and decided I would steal his thunder by –

"You – what?" Hermione repeated in disbelief.

"I am going to become a fiddler," I told her. "You want to come with me to the market to buy a fiddle?"

"But you don't know anything about music," she said.

I smiled at her mysteriously. Yes, in this life Harren Storm had no experience with music nor did Harry Potter have any in my original life but somewhere along the journey, the Master of Death had lived a life where he had become quite a renowned musician. Guitar had been his favoured musical instrument and I would have to re-learn from the basics but the basic foundation of music was somewhere in my mind as were the building blocks for some of the best melodies from many lifetimes.

I had no doubt that I could eventually outclass Prince Rhaegar as a more accomplished musician.

Soon, I was the proud owner of a brand new violin and I invited Hermione to visit me a few days later to see the progress I had made. At first she had been unsure but her curiosity to see the Red Keep from the inside had won out. Now, she was completely thrilled by my music.

"Your voice is so beautiful," said Hermione, one day.

I had taken her all the way to the top chamber where I had once seen Ser James and Lily have their little picnic. I had planned something similar - except instead of wine, I had juice and instead of bread and cheeses, I had some of Lily's finest cakes.

"Thank you," I said. "It is only polite that I return the complement," I said with a mischievous smile. "Your face, Hermione, is beautiful."

"Stop teasing me," she said.

"I am not," I told her, being completely honest. "You are beautiful - at least to my eyes."

And as time would pass, Hermione wouldn't be the only one who would be mesmerised by my voice and my songs, as many a maid would speak of the haunting melody of the music played and sung by the bastard of Maidenvault, how it was even more touching than the music of Prince Rhaegar.

And honestly all I had done was teach myself how to play the melody of _Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Stars_.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thanks to everyone who has read and double-thanks to those who have reviewed. I am hoping to get the next chapter within the next few days.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

At the start of the year 274 AC, I had already been in the Red Keep for nearly two years, when news broke like wildfire that the Queen was pregnant. This time there was no premature celebrations and everyone waited anxiously for the birth.

One morning, I was outside, a short distance from the training area, where I was practising by myself, just the moves Ser James had taught me whilst Prince Rhaegar was receiving a formidable training by several members of the Kingsguard.

That was when the King walked down. He looked to be in a strange mood – worried but hopeful – and he took in the sight of his heir and a bastard.

"I would like to see the two lads fight against each other," said the King.

Ser Jonothor started protesting. "Your grace, his highness has only been receiving instruction less than a year whereas the bastard has been spending day and night with the sword for many years."

"Nonetheless, Prince Rhaegar is much older and has the benefit of all of you, does he not?" said the King. "I will not repeat my command again."

I did not hesitate as I walked towards the training ground and raised my practice sword. Prince Rhaegar looked at me with an arrogant smirk as he took out a real sword. I hesitated and looked around but neither the King nor any of the Kingsguard made any objections although Ser Barristan and Ser Gwayne looked somewhat disturbed.

"Very well," I muttered, pulling wind as an armour around me.

Prince Rhaegar moved first and I was surprised at the ferocity and speed of his attack but I could deflect his blow without difficulty. I charged my speed with wind and leapt at him, trying to strike his hand so he would drop the sword but he lazily stepped back to render my move useless and then struck at me, but fortunately, my wind armour deflected his blow as if he had misaimed.

I took a few steps back and reassessed the situation. I had moved so swiftly that he should not have been able to avoid me – at least, not in such a casual manner. Did he have some magical ability as well?

I made a quick lunge towards him but he had been expecting my move – and he struck my sword, a clean cut that cut through the wooden sword I was using in half.

Okay, I mused as Ser Jonothor and much of the growing audience of castle servants cheered, something was definitely unnatural about his fighting style. I pushed back with my half-sword and reassessed. He could sense my movement even before I made them. Almost as if he had a premonition. Yes, that had to be it – not unlike Demiguise in my original life.

That was bad because as soon as I planned a move, Prince Rhaegar would already be aware of a general sense of danger from the direction I was intending to attack, despite the best feints, and so he could plan an appropriate counter.

Oh, he had no interest in attacking me or finishing it swiftly, being content to let me make the moves while he neutralised every one of them while making himself look magnanimous and skilled as a warrior and me as the brash and thoughtless unskilled one.

Deciding to fight fire with fire – or in this case, magic with magic – I looked at him and nodded, an indication that I was about to come at him. And I didn't rush or make any sudden moves, keeping my mind clear without any pre-planned moves, I was just coming at him at a normal pace and when I raised my half-sword, I arbitrarily wihtout any forethinking sent an air swipe at his face, and he was thrown off balance from his counter move and I gained an advantage. Shocked, he was on the backfoot, trying to hold me back as I pressed on. Meanwhile, the cheers were growing – while they had wanted to see their prince win – seeing me fight with such passion and heart was equally pleasing.

After a second wind swipe, I found my opening and I knew I could finish it there. My broken sword was ironically a more dangerous weapon than it had been previously – the sharp splinters could break his skin and force him to drop his sword.

But what would I gain from that?

The enmity of the crown prince who would one day become king.

The hate of one or more members of the Kingsguard whose reputation was staked on the training they gave to the prince.

The distrust of a King who could see enemies where there were none by publicly besting his heir.

And so I delayed my move by just a second, allowing Prince Rhaegar to dodge my attack and touch the cold steel of his blade to my cheek.

"I yield," I said, dropping my sword.

The King glanced at us and nodded, although I felt the approval was directed more at my throwing the fight than at his son's victory.

"You fought well," said Rhaegar.

"So did you," I said.

Rhaegar shook his head. "Not as well as I expected." He hesitated and then extended his arm. "We have not yet had the chance to be properly acquainted. I am Rhaegar Targaryen, son of King Aerys II Targaryen."

"Harren Storm," I said. "Bastard born son of the late Princess Daena."

Rhaegar nodded. "I hear you are into music as well."

"Yes, your highness, I was inspired by you," I said, deciding flattery was perhaps the key to opening a new door of friendship.

He considered my words. "Perhaps, we should train together in the morning," he said. "And when we are done, we should play music together as well."

* * *

Prince Rhaegar looked up from his harp. "At this rate, the maidens of the court will soon be fantasising about the Bastard of Maidenvault more than they do so about the Dragon Prince."

I shrugged indifferently.

A month had passed since the beginning of our friendship and we had played music nearly every day. At first, the jam was rough as we both wanted to be the star – the lead – but eventually we came to an agreement. On songs written by Rhaegar, I would do rhythm while he took lead and sang and vice versa on songs written by me.

The only difference was I cheated. I had access to so many great melodies written by so many great musicians that I was soon being called a musical prodigy even more than Prince Rhaegar. For instance, Harren's Lullaby was already a firm favourite in King's Landing as the lullaby of choice and if I borrowed the melody and words from Brahms, he certainly wouldn't mind since he didn't exist in this universe.

But also the songs I was making – Twinkle, Twinkle, Harren's Lullaby and The Dragon Sleeps Tonight – were simple and filled with childish innocence and yet so melodic that they became popular without bringing into question any surprise that a child wrote them. The third one was of course a modified version of The Lion Sleeps Tonight, which I presented as a tribute to my friendship with Rhaegar.

"I am only ten," I told him.

"As was I when I started playing the harp," Rhaegar pointed out. "But I do not complain now if some fair lass wants to make my night less lonesome."

"You are a dog," I laughed.

"A dragon, to be precise," he smirked.

The suddenness of our friendship was matched only by its intensity. I had thought him a pompous arse and he saw me as a would-be usurper to be kept at arm's length distance but now I saw he also had a good heart and was much kinder than his father and he realised I didn't care at all about sitting on the Iron Throne. The biggest flaw about him was that since his birth everything he wanted had been handed to him – he wasn't familiar with want or need for the moment he had such feelings, someone would satisfy them.

But my skill with the sword and the fiddle won him over and he was singing such praise for me at the dinner table that I was concerned the King would become suspicious that I had given my loyalty over to his son.

And so, the King finally broke the long period of not summoning me.

"So, my son is your friend now," the King remarked.

"Your grace," I bowed. "It came as a consequence of our duel."

"This is good for you can learn what lies in his heart," said the King. "I will allow him to spread his wings – as Prince of Dragonstone, it is time my son saw to the affairs of his domain." He paused. "You will find a way to accompany him on this trip and report to me what you see and hear. Who seeks his favour and what do they want? Is he true to me or is he easy to influence or eager to supplant me? Find what you can, boy, about my heir's true nature, and upon your return, I shall have an appropriate reward for you."

But when I next went to Prince Rhaegar's chambers for our music session, I saw his expression darken the moment he saw me. I quickly pieced together what could have changed his sunny disposition in such a short few moments – his premonition perhaps went beyond physical acts and sensed that I was about to do something faithless.

"The King summoned me to see him," I said, deciding to throw caution to the wind. Simultaneously, I pulled wind just to make sure Aerys wasn't hiding in the secret passageway listening in – he wasn't.

"Oh?" Rhaegar waited for me to continue.

"You remember when he announced I was spying for him?" I asked. "He would like me to spy on you."

"What did you say?" asked Rhaegar.

"What do you think?" I snapped. "You might be my friend and future king but he is the King of the day."

"So, I cannot trust you anymore," said Rhaegar.

I looked at him like he were a fool. "If I intended to betray you, would I be speaking to you about it?"

That relaxed his guard. "No, I suppose not," he admitted. He sighed. "I can see you are not in an easy position."

"He will command you to go to Dragonstone," I said. "Let me go with you and I will report to him that I saw nothing unusual."

"Will he accept that?" asked Rhaegar.

I hesitated. "You know the King better than I do."

Rhaegar nodded. "He will not accept no news even though he has nothing to worry about regarding my loyalty," he said. "Well, you can give him news of a different kind. Something that will appease his thirst for you to find some dirt on me and yet not be anything that puts me in a difficult spot."

"Can you think of something that will work?"

Rhaegar laughed and I noted how infectious his laughter was as I felt my spirits uplift and my dilemma lighten with his mood. "I have about half a dozen ideas or so, we can see what will work best when we get there, my friend."

I smiled at him.

It was true, we were becoming close friends due to our shared interests.

Before our journey, I paid Lily a visit. She was fast approaching her due date and I was slightly disappointed I would not be present to see the birth of her children. As was she and she was in tears when I said I wasn't sure when I would return despite my promises to visit as soon as I was able to.

"The shop is in good hands with you, Mrs Granger," I said, after parting from Lily and seeing that the stocks were at a decent level and the ovens were all at work. "I leave Lily also in your care and that of your husband's."

"Oh, don't you worry, Harren!" said Jane Granger. "We will take good care of Lily."

"Spare no expense," I said, handing my latest share of the profits to her secretly. "A down payment for your husband's time and for anything else she needs."

"I can't accept that," Jane shook her head. "Not after everything she has done for us. And you, Harren, and all those books you bring for Hermione. It would be our pleasure to look after Lily."

When I saw Hermione, she looked grumpy and didn't want to talk to me much.

"Look, I am sorry," I told her. "But I didn't have a choice. The Prince wants me to travel with him." I could tell what was bugging her so I decided to cut right into it. "He's a friend but he will never be my best friend. That's you."

She turned her head to me, and I decided to summon all my courage and I leaned forward and kissed her lips. Just a gentle peck and no sooner did we touch that I sprang apart. Hermione looked shocked but as she slowly reached to touch her lips where I had kissed her, her expression started softening.

"Best friend?" she asked.

And perhaps someday something more, I thought in my mind. After all, I knew from memory that Hermione Granger would one day blossom to become one of the most beautiful girls of her generation. More importantly, her sharp mind and fierce loyalty made her even more desirable as a companion.

* * *

_The Dragonsong_ was a double-masted galley and fit for purpose. Even if I wasn't pulling wind to increase our speed, the ship was a fleet one and would have made good time. As such, with my influence, we maintained an unnaturally high speed for a good part of the day – and I didn't mind, it was like exercising a muscle for me, the more I did it, the easier it became for future attempts.

"Somewhere, beyond the sea," I began when Prince Rhaegar approached me, humming the song from my memory. I couldn't recall who originally sang it but I had heard many versions of it. At least, in this world, it would be attributed to me. "Somewhere waiting for me; my lover stands on golden sands… and watches the ships that go sailing…"

"I like it," said Rhaegar. "Who is this lucky lady?"

I turned to him with a sheepish look. "I am only ten, your highness."

"Many sons and daughters of noble houses are already wed by that age," said Rhaegar.

"Perhaps, one good thing of being born bastard is that I don't have to worry about that," I said.

"No?" Rhaegar raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't be so sure of that. I believe the reward my father has in store for you for giving him positive news of my errant behaviour is a betrothal that will give you a holdfast of your own."

"Really?" I was shocked. "With who?"

Rhaegar shrugged. "I didn't hear but Ser Jonothor mentioned it to me. He heard from Ser Gerold Hightower, who, as the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, has a seat in the Small Council, that the King wanted a list of eligible young noblemaidens from a House that isn't too important or powerful and yet not one to be looked down on - Ser Jonothor thinks the King is looking for a match for you."

"That's… good to know," I said. "Forewarned is forearmed."

"Don't I know it!" Rhaegar exclaimed at my words and I noted the passion with which he said that.

We continued our sword training as Ser Barristan had accompanied us on the journey and he kept us both on our toes. But more importantly, we enjoyed fighting each other. For me, Rhaegar was always a challenge as even with my wind, I didn't always have an upper hand. Yes, a sudden unplanned wind blast would distract his precog ability just enough for me to get the upper hand but he was beginning to factor that in now. I suppose just as I suspected he had a special ability, he too may have his suspicions about me, although both of us kept it very secret. At the same time, it flummoxed everyone how Rhaegar could hold his own and even at times defeat a seasoned veteran like Ser Barristan but struggle against a ten year old.

As dawn approached, our journey was coming to an end. "There!" said Rhaegar and I saw the island of Dragonstone for the first time in the horizon. As we drew closer, I was feeling a strange resonance in the air. There was magic here and that magic was welcoming me.

"Do you also feel it?" asked Rhaegar in surprise in a low voice when I raised my arm and saw my hair was all standing up from the vibration.

I glanced around and none of the others seemed affected at all.

"The castle was built by my ancestors using fire and sorcery," he said. "I suppose, I should say our ancestors."

"The castle is shaped like many dragons!" I said.

"The Valyrians knew how to melt stone and shape it to their whims," said Rhaegar. "The curtain walls are filled with statues of gargoyles, griffins, hellhounds and wyverns. The Valyrians of old could use magic to bring them to life. Alas, now they serve as just a rather grotesque decoration."

"Have you ever thought of rediscovering the magic of your ancestors?" I asked curiously. "The Valyrians had so many magical abilities. Surely, you can seek to restore some of them."

Rhaegar shook his head. "Magic doesn't work like that. You are either born to it or you are not. Of course, there are some cheap tricks you can learn that will give you the illusion of magic but true power can only be gifted by the gods." He then looked at me curiously. "What about you?"

I wasn't sure what his question was but I decided to deflect the answer. "I have thought often of the legends associated with my other bloodline," I said. "According to lore, the Storm Kings of old wielded a mighty hammer called Fury which endowed its wielder with superhuman strength, stamina and the ability to summon lightning. I suppose when I get older, I would like to go on a quest to seek it."

"That would be a fun quest," said Rhaegar. "Mayhaps, I might join you in it. In any case, I shall review my books to find any mention of it. If only I could locate my book on prophecies! That is always a good place to begin."

I kept my face straight, trying not to look guilty. For that was one of the books I had stolen from the prince before we became friends.

Dragonstone was not a huge island, about 40 miles long and 10 miles in width. On the western side, there was a harbour leading to a beach, with a small town nearby. A long path led uphill to the mighty fortress, which also faced westward. On the east of the island, there was a volcano and most of the land was barren and rocky, with small patches of grass and woodlands and scattered villages of fisherfolk.

But what struck me as we were received by a welcoming party that followed us through the town up to the castle, was that a large majority of the people in the island, the commonfolk and the garrison, appeared to have the standard Targaryen appearance – platinum blonde hair, purple eyes, and sharp attractive features. When I remarked on that, Rhaegar explained to me they were called _dragonseed_, like me, the offspring of Targaryen lords that were bastards, many from even before Aegon's Conquest.

"There is magic here," I breathed wondrously when I crossed through the gateway into the black stone castle. The vibration was getting stronger and I suddenly knew what this meant: it was time for me to learn something new…

Fire.

If I didn't unlock Fire here in Dragonstone, an island with a castle made of magic and fire with a volcano, then I may as well give up on it.

But there was one problem, I still hadn't completely mastered Air yet.

* * *

As I flew, I was astounded by how different the world looked through the eyes of a stag. My field of vision was broader and I could see movements sharper although some colours and some details were harder to perceive. My sense of smell was also a thousand times stronger and at that moment I was following my nose to the source of the sulfur and brimstone smell that pervaded the island.

The transformation hadn't been easy and took nearly a week of single-minded focus to get there.

I focused very clearly on the form I had wanted to assume, a majestic silver stag with antlers like Prongs from my memories of a different life but with massive silver wings. I knew from my previous life that the creature I was imagining was called a Peryton, a mythical winged stag that was supposed to be native to the mythical land of Atlantis.

But it took me over a hundred attempts to achieve the transformation. The reason being I was focusing too much on the detail and too little on the wind. Again, the answer was to surround myself in wind and then will the transformation. The transformation magic was deribed by the element and not from me - different to Self-Transfiguration or Animagus Transformation - and once I realised that, it was very straightforward. I was master of the element and the element contained the magic.

As a winged stag, I could cover great distances in short times, although I had to take care not to fly too high to be visible from the castle or too near the smaller settlements or else someone there would see me.

Unsurprisingly, the source of the smell was the volcano and when I reached its foot, I transformed back to human form. There were villages at the foot of the volcano, mainly comprising of fisherfolk. And there were tunnels leading to the interior of the volcano - these tunnels were fascinating, and filled with obsidian, mainly black obsidian, but also a few rarer colours such as green, red and purple as well. So, I decided to collect small samples of each different colour, for no better reason than that they looked pretty and I thought I could fashion a necklace for Hermione.

But the moment I touched a chunk of green obsidian, the vibration within me amplified and suddenly my hands were covered in green flames. I dropped the obsidian in shock and the flames dissipated instantly. Frowning, I reached for a red obsidian and this time I was expecting it as red flames appeared on my hand. They felt hotter than the green flames from before but the heat didn't matter to me. Moreover, while the green flames had been like a peaceful relaxed pool of flames in which my hand was drenched, the red flames formed into a perfect sphere of a fireball that was eager to be released.

I tried again with purple obsidian, and I gasped as intense energy gathered in my hand and spread out like a shield or a ward or a force field of some kind. I dropped the purple obsidian and reached for ordinary black obsidian. Nothing happened at first so I focused and soon I saw a flame appear on top of my palm, in an ordinary orange and yellow colour. As I focused, the flame grew in size, illuminating the cave, and I instinctively changed its shape, like I would with wind, but this time with fire, to transform it into a sphere, like I had conjured earlier, although the chaotic nature of these flames meant it wasn't as perfect a fireball as the one created by the red obsidian but I could do other things with this, such as transform it into a fire whip, and then into a fire lasso.

And that was when I saw it, the tiniest chunk of white obsidian.

I released the black chunk in my hand and rushed to the white obsidian. Taking a deep breath, I grasped it.

A blinding white light shot out of the obsidian aimed straight at the wall of the cave and I flinched, fearing that it might break, for such was the intensity of the light. But the wall didn't break – in my grasp, the white beam of light steadied and was focused like a laser beam but I wasn't sure what it was doing until my vision adjusted to the bright light and I gasped when I saw the wall.

Once made of ordinary stone, a section of the wall about a few inches in diameter was now glistening spectacularly as a bedazzling display of diamonds – not one huge diamond but thousands of diamonds interlinked against each other, like each individual stone piece had transformed into a diamond on contact with the white beam of light.

I moved the beam slightly and gasped as I saw before my eyes the stone where the light came into contact went through a chain of transformations. First, the stone simply fixed itself, remaking any holes and gaps and erasing any imperfections. Then, it transformed into some marble-like substance and then the longer I left the beam on, it started transforming into diamonds. Wanting to test this further, I directed the light towards a small chunk of black obsidian and it transformed, first into red, then purple, then green, and then white obsidian.

Swiftly, I took out a metal clasp on my belt and tossed it on the floor and aimed the white light at it. The next moment, the metal had transformed into pure shining gold.

So, obsidian was a conductor for fire magic, I mused, and each different coloured obsidian had a different property of fire manipulation. Black obsidian allowed you to conjure and manipulate flames. Red obsidian allowed you to create fireballs and perhaps had other offensive fire-based magic. Green obsidian appeared to be more peaceful but what exactly could it do, I wasn't sure yet. Purple obsidian used the energy of fire to create shields or wards. White obsidian, perhaps the most brilliant of them all, purified objects to a higher state.

The problem was, I noted, other than black obsidian I wasn't able to control the others just yet and they automatically came into effect upon contact with my skin. So, for the time being, I tore some cloth from the sleeve of my jersey and used it to collect the different coloured obsidian and tied it within the cloth, to keep from having contact with my naked skin.

And then, I returned.

I hesitatingly joined the prince for dinner. While I had dined plenty of times by now with Rhaegar, this would be the first occasion with other important guests and I wasn't certain of protocol.

"Ah, Harren, you are late but no matter, the food is still on its way," Rhaegar glanced at me, instantly putting me at ease that I was expected. For all his flaws – arrogance being foremost – he was rather charming when he was in the mood for it. "Allow me to introduce you to the foremost of my banners – House Velaryon traces its ancestry to Valyria just like our own ancestors."

I glanced at the gathered group and took a sharp breath.

"Ser Lucius and Lady Narcissa Velaryon and their son Draco Velaryon," said Rhaegar.

I smiled at them and managed to mumble something polite as I took in the shock of meeting the counterparts of the Malfoys.

"Lady Narcissa's great-uncle, Lord Arcturus Velaryon has been unable to make the journey due to his failing health but as his heir, young Draco stands in his proxy," said Rhaegar.

Ah, I mused, so the Malfoys were not the Velaryons but rather the Blacks. That made more sense; an ancient and noble house, now fading in might. Draco looked about Hermione's age, a couple of years older than me, but Lucius and Narcissa didn't look too old – they appeared to be in the prime of their youth. Perhaps, their marriage too had taken place at a young age. I wondered what had happened to the counterpart of Sirius in this world but wasn't sure how to raise the topic.

Dinner was simple yet delicious. Fish was the common fare in Dragonstone and we had platters of grilled lobsters, prawns and fishes of various kinds, with seeded bread and a lemon and butter sauce. I decided, as I finished my lobster, that this was the kind of life I could become used to.

"Harren, why don't you show young Draco around the fortress while I discuss some more mundane affairs with Ser Lucius and Lady Narcissa?" asked Rhaegar.

Draco looked at me haughtily and Ser Lucius seemed to agree as he turned to the prince. "Pardon, your highness, I hardly think it is appropriate for a bastard to be escort to the heir of Driftmark."

"I understand, Ser Lucius," said Rhaegar, as a glint of steel came to his eyes. While he might previously have agreed with such a sentiment, he was now defensive of me due to our new friendship. "I shall let my father know that his chosen cupbearer was deemed inappropriate by the future steward of Driftmark who hides his own family name behind that of his good-father's name."

Lady Narcissa spoke out almost immediately. "Your highness, please, we meant no disrespect and if any offence was caused, we beg your kind forgiveness. My son Draco will be delighted to be escorted by umm…" She glanced at me, clearly having forgotten my name.

"Harren Storm," I said.

"Nay, forget it," Rhaegar waved a hand dismissively. "Harren, you are free to do as you please. Draco can wait for us here while we conclude our private discussions."

I didn't need a second invite and hastily retreated from the dining hall, aware of the hateful eyes of Draco Malfoy and his father on me as I left.

In the privacy of my chamber, I looked at the chunks of obsidian with fascination. Wizards in my original life used wands with a magical core inside it and I had also been to a different universe where the wizards of that world used staffs with some kind of substance, usually a crystal, at the top from which they drew or channelled energy. These obsidian chunks were just like those items, they allowed me to channel the fire elemental powers within me, for it wasn't as natural to me as Air was. But because the obsidian were different, they each drew on a different type of energy.

I used the green obsidian again and once again I had a pool of warm green flames around my hands. I tried releasing it but the green flames refused to budge, happy to stay around my hands, moving in a wave-like formation from right to left on top and from left to right on the bottom. Out of instinct, I touched a wooden chair with the flames but nothing happened. The flames passed through the chair to appear on the other side with no effect whatsoever. Sighing, I left the green chunk and picked up the black obsidian again. This was the easiest – for it didn't materialise in an uncontrolled manner – I could summon at will, whilst touching the black obsidian, flames that bent to my will.

I smiled when a butterfly made solely of flames emerged from the palm of my hand and flew away to the ceiling before it fizzled away. Then, I pulled wind and the fires in the two torches in my chamber vanished and when I snapped my fingers, one was relit and then the other. With a smile I looked at the obsidian chunk. I needed to have the black obsidian on me at all times. The rest of them – well, I needed to figure something out – a wizard's staff was out of question for now.

And the answer was simple, I could have them embedded into a custom weapon. The only problem was my weapon would need to be something that would be fit for use when I grew up and was bigger.

So, I wandered out to the courtyard and asked a guard for directions. The blacksmith was at the foot of the armoury tower and when I approached it, I was quite impressed by the stockpile of weapons in the Dragonstone armoury. Not the quantity as such – for Storm's End easily had twice or thrice the amount – but the quality. Every sword and every shield was a work of fine craftsman, worthy of any decent knight, whereas most castle armouries kept in stock basic weapons for lowly soldiers and guards.

"Can I help ya, little master?"

I looked at the wizened old man with white hair and couldn't help myself. "Ollivander," I blurted out.

"That is my name," he looked surprised.

I caught myself. "Yes, yes, one of the guards told me," I lied. "I was wondering if you could make a custom design for me."

The blacksmith looked slightly irritated. "I am the master blacksmith of Dragonstone. Can I make a custom design for you? Of course, I can. But will I? That is a different matter altogether."

"I can pay you," I said suddenly. "I can pay you in gold. Please, I really want a weapon with these colourful stones studded in." I showed the torn cloth on which I had placed the chunks of obsidian.

The blacksmith looked at me as if trying to peer into my spirit. Finally, he said. "No, not gold, that is not what I want, although if you make a donation of your own accord, I shall not say no. The payment I want for my services is a favour. A favour for a weapon, that I may ask at any time following delivery of the weapon to your satisfaction."

I didn't like the idea of owing favours to anyone but the appeal of having easy access to the full range of my fire elemental potential was too strong. "Deal," I said.

"Good, good, come inside, then, Master Harren," he said, and I was so excited it didn't even occur to me that I hadn't given him my name.

There were seven forges, one massive one in the middle, and three smaller ones on either side. All kinds of metallic objects were lying around and I looked in fascination as Ollivander lit the massive forge in the middle.

"While the forge heats up, tell me what design you have in mind."

I took out a parchment where I had made a rough drawing. "Two identical swords, sleek but firm, hilts made of dragon bone, if you can get one from the dungeons, studded with obsidian of every colour, and a scabbard to sling them on my back, made of black obsidian." Speed was what I wanted to incorporate into my fighting style, not strength, and so sleek swords would be more useful to quickly end fights using my magic.

"That's three favours, not one," said Ollivander.

I sighed and nodded.

Ollivander glanced at me in silence and then he said, "Popular knowledge is that the secret of Valyrian steel is long lost."

I tried not to yawn. It had been a long day and manipulating fire took more out of me than wind so I was not in the mood for a lecture.

"But everyone is agreed that the process involves steel, magic and fire," said Ollivander. "Now, you might not be so inclined and that is alright, I shan't use one of my favours on this, but if you were of mind, we could experiment together, me with steel and fire and you with magic and fire, and we shall see if we can recreate the lost art of making Valyrian steel."

I glanced at Ollivander silently. What had I said or done that would give away to him that I had magic? Nothing came to mind so I stayed silent, wondering if he too was magical.

"Like you, I too am descended from the Targaryens through a bastard line," said Ollivander. "Many a long age ago shortly after Aegon's Conquest, an Ollivander took to bed a Targaryen bastard, and moments before childbirth, the girl gave a prophecy: _the secret of the steel of Valyria shall be restored by the one who yearns to wield lightning; he shall seek a child of my child, carrying stones of many colours; and with steel, fire and magic, the secret of the sword of Valyria shall be restored_."

"The secret of the sword of Valyria," I mused. "You think that means the technique of making Valyrian steel?"

"What else could it be?" asked Ollivander. "I see you do not seem surprised by my mention of magic or prophecy."

I sighed. I didn't want to share my secret but I would need allies at some stage and Ollivander was probably as good as any I could hope for. "I was born with magic," I told him. "Elenei's gift, through my father's blood," I raised a hand and a hammer flew from the wall where it was hung to my hand. I then released it and flew back to its rightful place. "And the magic of Valyria from my mother's blood." This time I touched a black obsidian and snapped my fingers and the flames in the forge grew threefold in size and heat.

As I turned to the gobsmacked Ollivander, I said cheekily, "I think your forge is hot enough now."

* * *

Experimenting with Ollivander was more fun and educational than I had expected. When I showed him the green flames, he too had been mystified but when he tentatively reached for the green flames, to both our amazement, some of the calluses and cuts in his hand started healing. He then eagerly showed an elbow which had a burn mark and when I touched it with the green flames, the skin became as good as new. The green obsidian had the healing power of fire.

With the red fireball, he asked me to create a tiny fireball and send it to the unlit forges. He was hoping the forge would become lit but to our shock, even with a fireball no bigger in size than a gold coin, there was a loud explosion and one of his forges was destroyed utterly.

We then tried it with the purple flames. I allowed the flames to grow in size to create a wall of energy that surrounded one of the unbroken forges, and then Ollivander tried attacking it with many different kinds of weapons, none of them could pierce the purple energy shield, and when I sent a fire ball, I felt the shield waver but it held on, and then I sent progressively bigger fireballs until finally a fireball the size of a large pumpkin destroyed the purple shield but was also dissipated in the process, leaving the forge behind untouched.

So, black was plain fire, red was explosive fire bombs, green was healing fire and purple was energy shields.

But it was the white beam that was of most interest to Ollivander. When I directed the white beam into the broken forge, it first started making the broken rubble whole again – not in the rough form it had been but just as bricks that could be layered again and then I kept the beam on one small stone for a while longer, it transformed into a cluster of diamonds and disintegrated into small diamond pieces.

"Your payment," I said.

"Forget diamonds," Ollivander's eyes were shining with delight. "How does it impact steel?"

I sighed. "It turns all metals into gold," I said.

Ollivander made an irritated sound. "Steel isn't a metal boy, it is an alloy made of iron and carbon, the latter of which is not a metal."

We experimented; I directed the white beam at a steel sword, and initially we were ecstatic as the colour of the steel started changing but then the sword turned into gold. We were disappointed – which was ironical given the sword was worth a fortune that could set us both for comfortable lives but we were hoping to recreate a forgotten magic, to fulfil prophecy, and this wasn't sufficient.

"I have been musing all night on our last experiment. The problem, as I see it," said Ollivander, when I joined him for our third day of experiments, "is that steel has altogether too much metal in it that the purifying properties of the white obsidian cannot look beyond that and transforms it into gold. There is a simple solution to this. Do you see it?"

I shook my head. I was never one for crafting or artificing. The patience needed to get it right escaped me – I was always more for the practical side of things. Experiments were fine so long as I was allowed to avoid the theoretical discourse and get straight to the practicalities.

"We need to create a new alloy reducing the amount of iron," said Ollivander, clapping his hands excitedly. "Now, let's be methodical about this. What do we know about Valyrian steel?"

"They are significantly lighter, stronger and sharper than any other sword and do not lose their qualities even after many centuries of use," I said.

"Yes, yes, but more precisely, it is sharper than any other steel and can even cut through stone," said Ollivander. "What other substance do we know that has this property?"

"Diamond." But that wasn't what Ollivander was looking for. I raised both eyebrows in realisation. "Obsidian," I said.

"Yes!" he was cheering. "My newfound respect for this material just doesn't seem to cease. We need to create a new alloy of steel which includes obsidian and hopefully then when you purify it, it transforms into Valyrian steel."

"Use all five colours," I said suddenly. "Black, red, green, purple and white. Perhaps, I wouldn't need them to be studded into the hilt then."

"The only issue," Ollivander's cheer was beginning to fade, "is that I do not think my forge is hot enough to melt obsidian. It has a much higher sufferance than metals." He nodded thoughtfully. "That makes sense actually, for dragonfire is often considered the secret ingredient that the Valyrians used to create such weapons. Unless…"

I looked at him eagerly.

"You must do exactly as I say," said Ollivander. "Create a protected box using purple obsidian. Just enough to cover the forge. Leave the top open for now."

While I held the protective fire shield, he walked closer and placed a significant amount of obsidian lying around in the workshop – all black obsidian – and then the spare chunks of coloured obsidian I had and then he hastily walked back.

"Okay, now you have to do this very carefully," said Ollivander. "Have a shield to cover the top of the box ready but don't close it yet – then create a fireball that was about the size you had last created and then drop it into the cauldron and then close the box."

"Will it work?" I asked in hesitation.

"It may not," he admitted. "But we won't know until we try."

I grinned excitedly. This was more my kind of experimenting. I did as Ollivander said, taking a step back just as the fire ball was dropped and I closed the lid.

The sound of the explosion was dampened by the box but the intensity was barely contained, as the floor shook with the contents of the workshop and both Ollivander and I were thrown several feet away.

Ollivander cursed as he staggered to his feet. I gasped when I saw him, a crimson pool was forming on his shoulder. "I landed on the sharp edge of an axe. You wouldn't mind, would you?" I hastily rushed to his side, grabbing a green obsidian to heal his injury.

"Perfect," said Ollivander. "You are fine? No injuries? Good, good. Let's see what we have now."

The fireball had once again dissipated the fire shield and I rushed to the forge, strangely undestroyed this time as if the fireball spent its ferocious energy on the application I had in mind, that is, to heat the obsidian, and the obsidian had all melted into the molten steel, turning it into a mystical silver-purple colour.

I watched Ollivander work for some time but then I got bored as he waited for the molten to cool down so I decided to leave him to it.

As I wandered around the mighty fortress, I saw Rhaegar walking about with the Castellan and Commander of the Garrison, making important decisions that would affect the fate of every inhabitant in the island and potentially some of their neighbours, and I wondered if someday I would become lord of a holdfast too.

I laughed as I realised I was being silly. Who cared about holdfasts. True power was already within my grasp in the magic that I wielded.

* * *

"I am sorry!" I yelped as I quickly rushed out of the chamber.

It was dawn and I had just woken up when a servant had passed on a message that Prince Rhaegar had urgently summoned me and I was to go straight to his chamber. Except, when I got there, I knocked and walked right in, worried what might have caused such an urgent message, when I saw he wasn't alone. Lady Narcissa Malfoy was on her knees on the bed looking in my general direction while Prince Rhaegar was fucking her from behind like a dog, while grabbing her breast in one hand and a fistful of hair in his other hand. On my arrival there was a moment of stillness and barely a moment after my exclamation, Rhaegar's booming voice followed.

"Harren, come back at once!"

I hesitated before stepping back inside, keeping my eyes closed as I used wind to guide my steps. "I am sorry," I said again.

"How dare you!" Lady Narcissa was beyond incensed. "We should have your head for violating the privacy of the crown prince's chambers."

"M'lady, that would bring the ire of my father on not just me but also your house. Allow me to deal with punishment and ensuring my bastard cousin keeps his mouth shut," said Rhaegar. He then leaned closer and kissed her on the lips. "Alas, the moment is lost. You must now return to your husband lest he misses you and becomes suspicious."

I stepped to a side as Narcissa glared daggers at me as she walked out. "I am sorry, your highness," I began. "I didn't know… I was summoned… I don't understand…"

Rhaegar laughed as he casually put on his robes, unfazed by his nakedness before me. "Apple?" he asked, tossing an apple from a fruit bowl to me.

I created a wind channel, allowing it to fall in my hands easily, but I didn't want to eat it, not knowing where Rhaegar's hands had been during his tryst with Narcissa Velaryon.

Rhaegar nodded with interest at the sudden curve of the apple. "I hope one day our friendship and trust will grow to the point we will share our deepest secrets." I bit my lips and he didn't press the issue. "The events of this morning might help strengthen that friendship a bit more. I have a… thing for attractive women that are of high birth – servants, smallfolk and whores, even if they are as attractive don't matter as much to me. You may report to my father that you discovered me in carnal activities with Lady Narcissa Velaryon, whose son is heir to Lord Arcturus as the next head of House Velaryon. You may add that Lucius Velaryon is a proud and haughty man and if he discovers this, he would perceive it as a grave insult to his honour and you would not put it past him to plot against the Iron Throne. My appetite for attractive highborn women is the weakness that you should bring to the king's attention."

"Won't you get in trouble with the King?" I asked curiously.

"Ha," said Rhaegar. "Despite your recent closeness, you do not understand my father like I do. He is volatile and suspicious but when he believes something, his heart is true, and if there is one thing he believes above all else, it is that Targaryens are above all others. He will reprimand me for it would be what is required of him but he would not see it much more than a Targaryen prince seeing something he liked and reaching out for it, as is our birthright. Privately, he would be proud of me for doing so and find a way to reward me without making clear the reason for doing so."

"Thank you," I said.

"Now, tell me," he began as we walked out of his chambers. "You have been here a few weeks. What do you make of Dragonstone? What can I do to make my realm… well, for lack of a better word, better?"

I hesitated. "Dragonstone lacks three essential things that would have helped make it a strong and prosperous realm: fertile land, sufficient population and tradable resources."

"Aye," said Rhaegar. "There is very little I can do about the first and the last, and without them, the second also becomes difficult to improve."

I shook my head. "You have plenty of resources. Your fisheries are amongst the best but Duskendale, Maidenpool and King's Landing have a better advantage that they are in the mainland so it is faster, easier and cheaper for them to transport fresh fish. I am not sure how you can compete against them but there must be a way. Also, Dragonstone is the only place where obsidian is found, and believe me, people haven't realised yet but I think it has great value. But forget both of them –" I leaned closer conspiratorially. "I was waiting for the right time to tell you – a few days ago I had wandered down to the caves beneath Dragonmont."

"That isn't safe!" Rhaegar protested.

"Yes, and you aren't my mother," I pointed out.

Rhaegar paused and nodded. "Fair point."

"I found –" I swallowed uneasily before taking out from my pocket a large chunk of diamond with a number of smaller pieces.

"Are these diamonds?" he asked breathlessly.

"A tiny drop of what is beneath Dragonmont," I said. "I saw an entire cave wall made of diamonds. I didn't see any more than just that but what I saw was enough to kickstart the economy of Dragonstone."

"All this time, we had been sitting on top of a diamond mine?"

I didn't respond, allowing him to draw what conclusion he wanted. He would see the cave and start mining but after that one cave wall, he wouldn't find any more since I hadn't transformed more stone into diamonds. But at least - that would be sufficient to boost the economy of Dragonstone by a prudent lord.

"This will transform Dragonstone entirely," said Rhaegar, excitedly. "In exchange for the news I gave you to give to father, may I be the one who takes credit for locating the diamonds? Just this small amount will clear away all remaining debts owed by the Iron Throne."

I nodded. "As you said, one step closer to building trust in our friendship." I paused. "I do have one boon to ask."

"Go for it."

"May I keep these diamonds?" I asked, showing the ones I held. "The Blacksmith Ollivander has been teaching me some of his craft and I would like to fashion earrings out of these to give to –" I stopped abruptly.

"Go on, who is this maiden who has taken your fancy?" asked Rhaegar teasingly.

"Just a smallfolk maiden who helps out in the bakery business I sponsored," I said.

"You are quite an industrious young man, aren't you?" Rhaegar laughed. "Spy, warrior, musician, merchant, diamond miner and blacksmith."

"I am also a bastard," I reminded him. "So, I must do what I can to build a worthy life for me."

"Then, if I may," said Rhaegar, softly. "This girl who works in a bakery… by all means, enjoy her company while you can but she is not the one who will take you to your worthy life. You must marry a maiden who will bring to you a holdfast of your own or else you will never amount to more than a landless knight."

I looked away.

"Now, what is this I hear about a new sword forged of Valyrian steel?" asked Rhaegar.

"It isn't Valyrian steel as much as a new alloy of steel which makes it nearly as good as Valyrian steel," I said, after all, we used my fire ball whereas the Valyrians probably used dragonfire, and we used all five colours of obsidian, whereas Ollivander and I came to the conclusion that the Valyrians probably only used black obsidian. That made my twin swords even better than any Valyrian steel sword out there for not only did they contain greater potential but I also purified the alloy with the white purifying beam after Ollivander had finished the swords. "We are calling it Ollivander Steel."

That had transformed the swords completely.

The silver-purple hues had faded and it looked like plain steel except it was even lighter, stronger and sharper than Valyrian steel and obsidian. And when I wielded it, I could activate the fire elemental power of any of the five obsidians at my will.

We had decided against claiming we had recreated Valyrian steel as that would just cause strife with the nobles who might want to preserve the knowledge to make their family heirlooms all the more rare and exotic but by claiming it was an entirely new design, we allowed them to live under the illusion that they still had a superior sword but at the same time the value of the swords built by Ollivander had grown together with his reputation.

He had enough molten to create seven swords and he had claimed that was sufficient for him. Two were for me, one he would gift Prince Rhaegar, for that would be the apt thing to do, and the final four he would sell to the highest bidders, keep half the gold, and give the other half to the treasury of Dragonstone. If ever he needed more gold, he would sell the diamonds and the golden sword that our experiments had produced. I would later learn that the four swords would be purchased by: Lord Steffon Baratheon for his second son Stannis, one by the Citadel at Oldtown to study its properties, one by the Princess of Dorne and the final one by a merchant from Pentos with no forwarding name. Ollivander had offered to share a portion of the profits with me but I had declined - what need did I had for gold when I could literally transform any metal into gold and stone into diamonds?

But when Rhaegar touched the subject, I led him to my chamber and showed him, the scabbard with the two swords, magnificent to look at, and when I held them, a glint of silver and purple rushed through the steel and Rhaegar's eyes widened in shock and he took an involuntary step back.

I was slightly surprised and when I made a slashing motion, Rhaegar was completely taken aback by it and jumped back in shock and horror. So, I mused, the swords were capable of neutralising whatever precog ability that Rhaegar Targaryen possessed. That was good to know.

"These are impressive," he finally said, although he was looking at them with just a hint of fear.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I have amended the chapter slightly. Earlier, I had the twin swords in the shape of lightning bolts - but in retrospect (and not least because a dozen reviewers pointed out), that would make it very impractical in a real fight. The whole point was to make something unusual - not a big part of the plot anyway - but it seemed to be distracting readers so have changed it now.

Also, some of you have expressed concern that Hermione will be treated the same way as Elya in "Archmage of Arda" but rest assured, that is not my intention. :)

Please do review.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

After nearly a year, we made our return journey for news had reached us that the Queen had given birth to yet another child. Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen's birth was being celebrated and Rhaegar was surprised at the friendly and affable tone of his father in the message that he received.

"I hope the baby lives," sighed Rhaegar when only Ser Barristan and I were in hearing range. "It would go a long way in healing my father's heartache and make his reign more stable."

During our return journey, I noticed that I had grown several inches in just a few months for my makeshift cabin bed was now too small for me. Part of it must be due to the green healing fire, I wondered, for I was beginning to find that every time I was hungry or thirsty or sleepy or tired, if I just summoned those green healing flames, all of that dissipated and my body felt even more rejuvenated than ever before. The magic of the healing fire was enough to sustain my physical body and that made me wonder if there was any link between the green fire of this universe with phoenix tears or the elixir of life from my original home world – they certainly had similar effect.

There was a welcoming party and quite a large number of smallfolk had gathered to see their beloved prince, and if I was being honest, the Bastard of Maidenvault was acquiring something of a reputation as well for such great musical talent. I scanned the crowds and wasn't sure if I was disappointed or happy that neither Lily nor Hermione were there. I really wanted to see both but I wouldn't be able to break away from the party to talk to them so perhaps it was for the best. Also, Lily had given birth to twins - Hermione had written to me whilst I was in Dragonstone - a boy and a girl - and so I supposed she would have her hands full with her new babies.

The King summoned me immediately and I gave him a full narrative of discovering Rhaegar's tryst with Lady Narcissa Velaryon and his weakness for attractive highborn ladies. The King's reaction was exactly as Rhaegar had predicted – while he verbally expressed his displeasure before me and decided he had no choice but to reprimand Rhaegar publicly for this dalliance, I could also detect a rather proud smile on his face. Publicly, he would rebuke Rhaegar as he said but that was short and swiftly followed by lavish public praise for discovering the diamond mines that had evaded discovery for centuries.

But the biggest surprise for me was…

"Hermione!" I was stunned when I saw her in the Maidenvault. "What are you doing here?" But my question became muffled as Hermione had wrapped her arms around me and was hugging me tightly. Behind her I saw Lily and Jane Granger were smiling at us while Healer Granger looked a bit annoyed at our closeness.

"I thought of sending you a raven but then I decided it would be a great surprise for when you returned," Hermione said eagerly. "Father has acquired quite a reputation in King's Landing now, so the King personally requested him to attend to the Queen and gave us lodgings in the Maidenvault."

"That is – this is brilliant!" I couldn't hold back my joy that Hermione would be so close to me now. I parted from Hermione and walked to Lily and gave her a hug as well. "How come you are here too? And how are the twins?"

I had received a letter from Hermione after Lily had given birth to twins, a boy and a girl. The boy was named Harry and the girl was named Jasmine.

"They are doing well and are sleeping upstairs right now," said Lily. "One day after the birth of Prince Jaehaerys, I was summoned to visit the Queen and she begged me, in the name of our previous friendship, to help her. Through our weekly deliveries for the Queen and her ladies, she became aware that I had just given birth as well and she wanted me to become wet nurse to her son. She told me that her milk has dried up during this particular pregnancy and she cannot trust anyone else to be wet nurse to her son. As I gave birth to twins, mine has been plentiful and I couldn't say no to her."

I nodded. "What about the bakery?"

"It's in good hands," she said and smiled at Hermione and her mother. "We hired a new chef who runs it on a daily basis and with Hermione's excellent financial planning, we have also bought the lot next to us to expand in size."

Hermione nodded excitedly. "The main reason for the purchase was to double our kitchen space. One of the lots will be for everyday things like bread, muffins and biscuits and the second will be for our premium range of cakes. Both are extremely profitable." She blushed when I looked at her with an impressed expression on my face. "Things couldn't be any better!" She smiled at me.

I smiled back at her but a sudden sense of foreboding entered my heart. Yes, things couldn't be any better but that meant they could get worse…

And they did.

Only three moons had passed since our return and yes, life was brilliant. I would wake up at the crack of dawn and find Hermione already up and reading something. After a brief chat, we would go to the courtyard where Rhaegar and I would engage in weapons training while Hermione would watch us with a book in her hands for when she got bored. Eventually, Hermione would leave us to go to the bakery while Rhaegar and I would move on to work on music. Occasionally, we would have lunch together except when he was summoned by the King for lunch, in which case I would eat with Lily in the Maidenvault. The twins were doing fine, as being milk-siblings to a royal prince gave them a slightly higher status and were relatively well looked after.

I took every opportunity I could to find some solitude and practice my magic. With wind, I could make it part of my daily life as wind was all around us and no one would notice a sudden gust here or there but flames appearing out of nowhere would attract greater attention. In particular, I started using multiple abilities simultaneously. For instance, I would use wind to make me invisible while summoning twigs and fallen leaves towards me using Telekinesis whilst conjuring flames to burn them. Another exercise I frequently did was to go on a run, carrying one small green obsidian covered in cloth but with just a little bit exposed. I would charge my speed up with wind whilst touching the exposed obsidian every time I started tiring to rejuvenate my muscles and give me a stamina boost. By doing so, I realised my natural endurance, speed and reflexes started improving as well and I started growing even faster. That was nice, I mused, at least, in this life I wouldn't be short.

Spending time with Hermione was - well, simply put - some of my fondest memories. We wouldn't recreate our first private meal at the top of the Maidenvault again as her father appeared less enthused with our closeness but we did find ways to spend time together, such as walking hand-in-hand in the gardens or sneaking out to the beaches for a lazy afternoon. We hadn't kissed again but we did hold hands fairly frequently and I could see that the smiles she gave me were much more tender than what she gave others.

But the good times didn't last and tragedy struck House Targaryen yet again.

The news that Prince Jaehaerys had been murdered spread like wildfire. I had been out in the courtyard with Rhaegar when the shouts and screams emerged from Maegor's Holdfast and spread throughout the entire Red Keep. That day we had Ser Jonothor Darry and Ser Gwayne Gaunt and both immediately sprang into action, with Ser Jonothor Darry escorting Prince Rhaegar to safety whilst Ser Gwayne rushed to find the King.

I was left alone and immediately rushed to the Maidenvault. Jane and Hermione were there and they both looked terrified.

"Harren!" Hermione looked relieved to see me. "You have got to do something. The King has taken Lily captive."

My eyes widened in shock. "What?" I yelled. "Why?"

Hermione was about to say something but Jane cut in. "The King is distraught with grief and Lily was the last person to see the prince alive. She fed him this morning and had just returned to the Maidenvault – only a short while later, Ser Harlan came to tell father to hurry to the prince's side and then he took Lily in for questioning."

"That makes no sense!" I said. "Why would anyone think Lily would hurt the prince?"

Jane cleared her throat. "From what we heard, it sounded like they believe Lily held a grudge for being dismissed from the castle staff and had her revenge by poisoning the prince."

"That is ridiculous," I said angrily. "Surely, anyone sensible can see that she wouldn't…" I paused. The problem was the King was rather erratic and prone to do drastic things at a whim without thinking – being sensible wasn't his forte. I turned to Hermione. "I will try and find out more."

"How?" asked Hermione. "They would have her under heavy guard."

I hesitated and waited until Jane had departed. "You are my best friend, Hermione," I said softly. "But there are some secrets that I have been keeping from everyone, even from you." She looked at me curiously. "Remember, a long time ago, I had asked if you believed in magic?" She nodded slowly, looking confused. The next moment, I summoned wind around me and turned invisible. She gasped in shock and if the situation weren't so serious, I would have smiled at her expression. "I will see you later, we can talk then. Right now, I need to help Lily."

I rushed out in my invisible form and slipped past the guards standing outside Maegor's Holdfast. The cries of Queen Rhaella could be heard from a long distance and there was a tone of such utter hopelessness in her miserable wailing that tears started appearing on my face as well. How many children had she lost now? Beyond count… But it was when I entered the prince's nursery and saw Aerys that I realised the true weight of tragedy that they had suffered. He wasn't crying, he didn't look sad or angry – no there was a deranged look to him that went well beyond sad and angry and into the realm of insanity. Even though I was invisible, I took a step back in fear.

The King was not a stable man.

"Your grace," Ser Gerold Hightower, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard approached the prince's nursery. "The wet nurse keeps denying guilt and any knowledge of what happened here."

The King turned to the knight, who also paused in mid-step at the look on the King's face. "What happened is obvious," he said in a low voice devoid of any emotion. "My son was murdered and only she had access to the prince. Where is she now?"

"In the dungeons," said Ser Gerold. "Sire, if I may, we need to establish what really happened as the threat may not be gone."

"You are in on it too?" The King turned to him with such ferocity that the old knight took a step back. "Why else would the Lord Commander of my Kingsguard defend a murderer?" He glanced around with a deranged expression. "Who else is on this conspiracy?"

Ser Gerold looked distraught as he went on his knees. "Sire, I am ever your faithful servant. Forgive me for my thoughtless words. What would you have of me?"

"Today is for mourning," the King decided. "At dawn, I will pronounce my judgement."

Sentence, not judgement, I mused darkly, seeing how he was already convinced of Lily's guilt. How could I save her? I could ask for a trial by combat but that was only guaranteed for highborns and the King could decline it for Lily. No, the only way to save her was by discovering the true murderer before dawn.

I rushed out of Maegor's Holdfast and found Hermione and told her what I had discovered. "We need a plan and we don't have much time," I said.

"The question is," Hermione said slowly, "who had the most to gain by murdering the prince? It makes Prince Rhaegar so much more valuable if he's the sole heir but I don't see him –"

"Rhaegar wouldn't do something like this!" I leapt in defence of my friend. But when I saw a hurt look on Hermione's face, I controlled my tone and took her hands in mine. "As much as I know Lily hasn't done it, I am also certain that Rhaegar has nothing to do with this. Please believe me, Hermione."

Hermione nodded. "Okay," she said. "Who then…"

Suddenly, a memory returned to me of something I had overheard once. I had told the King about one of his mistresses wanting to be raised in status equal to the Queen by giving the King more children than the Queen did – but that wouldn't work if the Queen started giving birth to more healthy children. The King had dismissed my report and I had also stopped thinking about it.

"Lady Selina," I said suddenly.

"The royal mistress?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "She is second-in-line to the Queen in terms of prominence so I can see why you are thinking she might be involved. Also," she said slowly, "she recently gave birth to a child and is pregnant again with a second child."

I snapped my fingers. "That must be it," I said. "She wants to give more children to the King than the Queen has. And… and, if the prince was murdered by poisoned breast milk, then she could have done it too if she just gave birth and is pregnant again."

"And she has chambers in Maegor's Holdfast," said Hermione. "But how would she sneak past the guards."

I was silent for a few moments. The secret passages were out of the question as the King had specifically kept the nursery in a place where there was no entrance other than the one under constant guard, secret or otherwise. Did she have some kind of magic? If she could become invisible or keep herself unnoticed, that would have worked? But how would I discover or prove something like that?

Hermione suddenly shot her head up. "We are so stupid!" she exclaimed. I looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Lady Selina is the daughter of Ser Larryk Cargyll, a prominent household knight. Ser Larryk's nephews are spread throughout the household guard and the city watch." She frowned thoughtfully. "One of his nephews is a guard in Maegor's Holdfast."

I gasped. "How do you know that?"

"Castle gossip," said Hermione dismissively. "One hears things. But do you see?"

I nodded. "If the guard who said no one entered the prince's nursery after Lily was connected to Lady Selina, then there's a possibility… Oh, this could be it."

"But we have no proof," said Hermione. "Only the records of the Kingsguard will show who was on duty today."

The seeds of a plan were beginning to form in my mind. "The King can act rashly without listening to reason but that also means he doesn't always need strong evidence to be convinced of something," I said. "The key question is how to get him to seriously consider this…" I snapped my fingers. "Yes, I have it. There is one thing he will not disregard…"

"His son?" asked Hermione curiously. "His Hand?"

I shook my head. "His dragon dreams." I was silent for a moment. "What is the coat of arms of House Cargyll?"

"A golden goose on bendy black and red. What are you thinking?"

I sighed, privately impressed by her vast knowledge about even the minor houses of the realm. "I will explain later, we don't have much time now. You just have to trust me."

"Okay," she said, without hesitation. "What can I do to help?"

I shook my head. "I need to do this alone," I said. But then I hesitated. "Actually, there is something you can do in the meantime… start a rumour: Lily fed her babies after the prince and they are still alive so that must mean her milk was not poisoned… that means the real murderer is still out there and still poses danger to the inhabitants of the castle."

Hermione nodded. "Okay, leave that to me." She grabbed my arm before I could leave. "When all of this is over, you and I will speak more about everything. Okay?"

I couldn't help it as I looked at her stern face and grinned at her. "Okay," I promised.

* * *

It took me nearly an hour to locate the King. He was in the small council chamber adjacent to the Iron Throne courtroom, all alone, peering at some papers. Clearly, he wasn't focused on them and was just trying to distract his mind from the tragedy of the day.

I took a deep breath and slowly walked to a side so I had a clear view of the King but kept a fair distance, invisible as I was, I couldn't risk any sound to give away my presence. I clenched my hand around the black obsidian and drew the flames from all torches in the chamber to come and join together in the middle of the chamber in front of the King.

King Aerys gasped and rubbed his eyes as he saw the flames move on their own. But before he could raise any alarm, I had transformed the flames into two clear shapes. One was a tiny dragon and another was a large goose. By now the King was frozen on his seat and staring with intense attention. The goose approached the dragon and then started pecking at it with such ferocity that the flames that made up the little dragon were disintegrated. The next moment I sent a tight wind punch at the back of the King's head and he fell down unconscious.

By the time the King awakened, he would see the torches were all lit as they had been and so the strange vision he had seen of a goose killing a little dragon was a dream he had seen when he had fallen asleep in the small council chamber.

Then, I hastily left the King, turning invisible, and went to the White Sword Tower. Luckily, the Kingsguard were all busy and so the archive-room was empty. A quick scan of the guard rota and our suspicion was confirmed. The guard on duty that morning was Ulryk Cargyll. I grabbed that sheet of paper and hurried back to the King.

Right on cue as the King stirred awake…

"Your grace," I knocked at the open door and waited patiently outside.

The King was silent for several moments, no doubt thinking about his dream, and then he turned to me and gestured me to come inside. "Tell me, boy, what is the point of having a spy when he fails to detect a direct blow against my line? I should have you beheaded with that former maid who was waiting like a serpent to strike back at the royal line."

"Your grace, I shall always live with regret and shame for this failure," I said humbly. "Punish me as you will but please hear me out first."

He made a hand gesture for me to continue.

"I am hearing rumours," I said. "That the prince's wet nurse fed her own children after the prince so how could her milk have poisoned the prince but not her own children?"

"What do I care about that little demon's spawn?" the King snapped. "I want justice, I want revenge."

"Yes, sire, so do I," I said intensely. "But what if the true murderer is still out there?"

The King glanced at me quietly. "And do you have any evidence as to who you think is the real killer?"

"If I may speak freely," I said, sounding hesitant. "I have a conjecture but I might be wrong and I do not wish to falsely implicate…"

"Boy, if you have any information of relevance, you will do best to speak at once without further delay," said the King, with a dangerous edge to his voice.

I nodded. "Sire, the only reason why we believe no one else entered the prince's nursery is because of the statement of the guard on duty – Ulryk Cargyll. I have once before voiced out Lady Selina Cargyll's ambitions to replace the Queen and I just wanted to ask if you were absolutely sure of House Cargyll's loyalty to the Iron Throne?"

"Cargyll…" the King was silent as he closed his eyes. Then, with a sudden ferocious intensity, he stood up and looked at me with raging eyes. "The golden goose killed the little dragon." He glanced around. "Where are my Kingsguard?"

Before long, the King had ordered the Kingsguard to gather the wet nurse Lily to the throne room, the guards involved and the royal household. All the commotion had awakened much of the usual courtiers and a large gathering was starting to enter the throne room. I followed the King and stood at the bottom of the dais, in the pretence of waiting for any orders from him but also to get prime view of everything that happened. Even though it was night, the throne room was almost full, mainly the royal household, the Kingsguard and other nobles presently in the Red Keep or in King's Landing who had heard news of something monumental stirring in the royal household. Even the servants were gathered in the viewing galleries. I saw Hermione nestled next to her father, looking at me with a nervous expression. I assumed her mother was back in the Maidenvault with the twins.

"A great tragedy occurred today," said the King. "A vile killer struck against my - your King's - blood and took the life of an innocent babe, Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen, my son. I have vowed I will not rest till this killer has been punished and that is why we are all here." He faced Lily. "You were the prince's wet nurse?"

Lily looked distraught and terrified and she went on her knees. "Yes, your grace, but please, your grace, I have not done anything. I have never meant the little prince any harm… please believe me."

"Answer my questions only," said the King. "You fed the prince this morning?"

"Yes, your grace," said Lily, looking at her feet.

"And the prince was alive when you left him?"

"Yes, your grace," said Lily.

"Ser Gerold, have you brought the guard from this morning?" asked the King in a casual manner.

Ser Gerold nodded and glanced at one of the men, who stepped forward looking more confident than he really should but he had no idea of what was coming.

"Your name?" asked the King.

"Ulryk Cargyll, your grace," said the man.

"Ah," said the King. "Tell me, Ulryk, in your words, who all entered the prince's nursery this morning?"

The guard thought for a moment. "The Queen was the first visitor," said the guard. "Then came the wet nurse who killed him. The Queen departed halfway through the feeding. Then the wet nurse left. After that, no one entered the prince's nursery until both you and the Queen went in together and found the little prince… as you did." He lowered his head.

"So, effectively, you stand as accuser, claiming that the wet nurse of murdering the prince?" the King worded his question very deliberately to the point that I was beginning to get a bit nervous.

The guard stood upright and nodded once. "Yes, your grace."

"Thank you for your honesty but please stay here in case your service is needed," said the King. "Grand Maester Pycelle, are the healers concurred on time and cause of death?"

"Yes, your grace," said Pycelle. "While it looks like Prince Jaehaerys died of natural causes in the hour before he was discovered by your graces, a deeper examination shows large amounts of the poison known as sweetsleep on his lips. A few grains of sweetsleep is not harmful, a pinch will give one a night of deep and dreamless sleep and three pinches will produce a sleep that does not end. Alas, it gives me no pleasure in saying that the prince was murdered by the poison known as sweetsleep."

"And do you have any theory as to how it was done?"

"Yes, your grace," said the Grand Maester, looking at Lily. "It is clear that the wet nurse consumed sweetsleep. It is a well-kept medical secret that nursing mothers are immune to sweetsleep as it is expelled by way of their breast milk over a period of a fortnight without causing any harm to the mother. So, the poison would not harm the wet nurse and in fact, it would give her the calmness and confidence to go through with this heinous task. But when consumed by the poor child… that is how I and the other healers believe Prince Jaehaerys was murdered."

"Very well," said the King. "The wet nurse will be beheaded at once." Before I could even open my mouth in shock, the King added, "Unless there is any other accusation here." The King's eyes slowly turned towards me and then I realised what he was playing at – he was convinced about the guilt of his mistress but he wanted me to take the fall for any issues with his nobles so that their ire would be directed at me. But what choice did I have?

"Your grace," I said bravely, as I took a few steps and came to stand in front of the King, knowing how comical it must look for a 11 year old bastard to get involved in such serious proceedings. "I accuse House Cargyll of high treason, conspiracy against the royal lineage and murder."

There was an immediate outrage as the nobles started protesting, the servants started whispering and Ulryk the guard raged towards me, trying to grab me with his arms but I used a wind swipe to cause him to trip and he fell down face first as he tried to reach me.

"Silence!" the King commanded and within moments the hall was silent. "Elaborate," he told me.

"Ulryk Cargyll lies," I said. "There was one other visitor to the prince's nursery, the guard's cousin, Lady Selina Cargyll." There were shouts of anger and outrage from one of the galleries and I looked up where the royal mistress Lady Selina was sitting in a position of authority in challenge to the Queen herself and the other mistresses were divided in allegiance between the two. Lady Selina was calling for my head but the look on the Queen's face was clear that she was seriously considering it. "Lady Selina who carries the King's seed – a bastard, like me – but her second child, which, with Prince Jaehaerys' death, will mean she has produced more children for the King than has her grace, our beloved queen. She had access, living in Maegor's Holdfast, she had motive and this morning, when her cousin was the guard on duty, she also had opportunity." Now that I was in it fully, I decided to go for full theatrics and I raised a hand pointing at Lady Selina. "There is the true killer of Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen."

As everyone turned to see her, Lady Selina stood up with a dignified huff. "I will not stay here and allow this bastard to tarnish my good name. House Cargyll shall not tolerate this insult."

"No one is leaving," said the King. "The Kingsguard will escort Lady Selina to join the wet nurse Lily."

One of the other nobles stood up in outrage. "Sire, surely, you will not entertain such terrible lies and slander?" Another noble got up. "Not to mention the outrageous audacity of a bastard to accuse a noble house of something so heinous!" And then another. "Your Grace, I demand this wretched boy be shown his place." It was clear that they were less concerned about justice as they were about setting a precedent that a bastard could accuse one of the nobility.

The King stood up and everyone fell silent. "ALL I WANT IS JUSTICE FOR MY DEAD SON!"

"But sire," another noble protested, not knowing how dangerous it was to do so. "Justice requires evidence and there is none here."

"Evidence?" the King snapped. "You were more than happy to see me behead the wet nurse on the basis of an accusation so why the objection now? Why was there no call for evidence earlier?" For a moment, his voice held righteousness and sounded just, showing the king he could have been had fate been kinder to him, but then a glint of madness came to his eyes. "Or is it because you are involved in this plot too?" The noble immediately sat down and lowered his head, no further objections were coming.

"Sire, if I may," Grand Maester Pycelle cleared his throat and spoke out. "There is one way to find out for certain. The amount of sweetsleep was so large that it would still be expelled in a sufficient amount to kill anyone who consumes it."

The King looked triumphant. "Very well, I have made my mind. There are two suspects and two accusers. Ulryk Cargyll will suckle Lady Selina's breasts and Harren Storm shall suckle the wet nurse's breasts. Whichever accuser is correct will survive."

I gasped as did many others.

The King shot his head in one direction. "You look unconvinced, Lord Rollingford?"

"Y-Your grace," the fat balding man suddenly looked like he would rather be in the other end of Westeros. "Be as it may, that boy is not of noble birth. By what grounds can he accuse a member of House Cargyll? By Your Grace's own reforms, no smallfolk or bastard can accuse one born of high birth of any crime."

Aerys gave the man a withering glare. "I tire of these political games." He walked down the dais and towards me. "Boy, kneel before your king." He touched my shoulder as I knelt facing him. "By the power vested in me, I, Aerys II, of House Targaryen, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, hereby legitimise you. Rise, now, as Harren of House…" He paused as his senses suddenly returned and he realised what he was doing, legitimising a bastard of an elder Targaryen line. He couldn't make me a Targaryen without giving me a legitimate claim even over his own son, being from the elder lineage, and he couldn't make me a Baratheon without consulting with father as that would create a precedent that would create much wider outrage amongst the nobles.

I coughed. "Sire, may I choose my own house name?" I requested. "While nothing would give me greater honour than to be granted the right to my father's name or my mother's name, I beg your generosity to allow me a new name so I can serve the Iron Throne to my best capability without becoming a distraction to my rightful liege."

For the first time that day I saw a look of warmth and sobriety in Aerys' face as he looked at me with the barest hint of approval, realising I had dug him out of a tricky situation by requesting a new name for myself whilst effectively renouncing any claim to House Baratheon or House Targaryen.

"Granted," said the King. "We will finish this later but for now let it be sufficient that the son of my late cousin Princess Daena Targaryen and my dear friend and cousin Lord Steffon Baratheon has been legitimised and holds all the rights of nobility, though not linked to either of his parent's house. Of course, if it turns out that your accusation was false, boy, and the wet nurse was in fact the killer, your nobility will be rather short-lived and you will die as you lived - without a family name. Let's get this over and done with now – both of you together."

I nodded. I turned to face Lily with an apologetic face but she smiled at me gently as she lowered her upper garment. I walked towards her as many of the gathered shuffled trying to get a better look at her breasts but frankly, only the King and I had a clear view. "Thank you," she whispered but I had eyes only for her breasts - beautiful, milky and with large nipples. Part of me was thrilled whilst another part was disgusted with what I was about to do, but even the disgust was muted by the awareness that in order to save her life, I had to do this.

I looked up at Hermione, who nodded at me, with an encouraging look on her face. From the corner of my eyes, I could see the guard was a lot more hesitant and nervous than I was and that was already causing a new round of whispers.

I pressed my face against her breasts and wrapping my tongue around her breast, licked gently, moving my tongue in circles, relishing the taste and sensations that I was feeling. I had just felt the first drop of milk on my tongue when suddenly I heard the King shout out, "Guards, seize that traitor!" I shot my head up and saw Ulryk Cargyll had tried to make a run for it instead of suckling his cousin's breasts and wondered if that was the end of Lily's ordeal. But it wasn't. "I will have my evidence," the King roared in a mad fury. "Each of you will suckle both breasts until milk has been consumed."

I allowed her milk to trickle down my lips and turned to face the King, who gave me a nod, before I moved to the second breast and repeated the process. When the King was satisfied, he waved a hand, "The wet nurse is innocent," he declared. He looked at Lily but there wasn't even an ounce of regret on his face. "My Master of Coin will give you 100 gold dragons as restitution for your troubles."

In the meantime, the guards had been holding Lady Selina and Ulryk securely and forced him to suckle her breasts until a few moments later, he started gasping and choking. He fell to the ground and started writhing until with one final groan, he stilled, dead as a log.

The King lowered his head and slowly walked back to his throne and sat down, as the silence became increasingly more ominous. When he finally spoke, his voice was very calm and very still.

"Ser Gerold, you will round up every member of House Cargyll from the youngest babe to the oldest crone, trueborn and bastard - including any royal bastards. This time I shall do things properly – I have learnt from the errors we made with House Toyne." He didn't look up for nearly a minute as the Kingsguard moved into action whilst the servants resumed their whispers and gossip, some having left to spread the news beyond the Red Keep. Eventually, he stood up and without another word, he walked towards the antechamber of the small council chamber. "Rhaegar, with me." He glanced at me. "You too, boy."

As I turned to go, Lily grabbed my hand. "Thank you," she whispered to me although her eyes didn't quite reach mine. I smiled at her before going after the King and his Heir.

The King and Rhaegar took seats around the table but I remained standing. He had granted me recognition but I knew better than to push it, at least, not at this stage.

"The enemies of our house surround us in greater number with every passing day," said Aerys. "And our friends lessen."

"Father," Rhaegar began urgently. "Please reconcile with Tywin Lannister. For all his flaws and his ambitions, he is your loyal friend."

"Pha!" Aerys spat. "Tywin Lannister is loyal to no one but Tywin Lannister – you will do best not to forget that." He glanced at me. "Once again, you have served me beyond the call of duty. Does my reward please you?"

I wondered if there was a trick question in there somewhere. "Sire, I cannot deny that it is a great honour but I do not wish my legitimisation to cause you any more problems than you currently face."

The King waved a hand dismissively. "I would have done so anyway eventually," he said. "Not as reward for your service to me, loyal as it has been so far, but because as you grow older, you can serve me much better as a noble than as a nameless bastard. But remember, boy, this uplift in status is just a façade for the outside world. You will be given land, of course, but it will be a nominal territory with no incomes of its own." He paused. "Take a day to think, I want you to present to my Master of Laws your preferred house name, coat of arms and house words. Go now, I will now speak to my heir in privacy."

When I returned to the Maidenvault, my heart skipped a beat as I saw Lily and the Grangers had packed their belongings. On seeing my face, Lily looked at me tearfully and she came closer to hug me.

"You are leaving?" I asked quietly.

"How can I stay here?" she asked me miserably, and I didn't have a response for her. "The Queen has granted me permission to leave her service."

"What about the bakery?" I asked.

"Rosmerta is handling it just fine," said Lily. "Besides, I won't be abandoning the business entirely. I am planning to use the gold I received as restitution to open a new branch of Lily's and look after it for some time."

"Where will you go?" I asked.

"Duskendale," said Lily. "It is near enough that I can drop by every other month to check in on Rosmerta but far enough to… start anew." she trailed off.

I glanced at the Grangers, wondering why they were also leaving but the answer was obvious. They were good people and didn't want to let Lily go all alone into a strange new city.

Healer Granger cleared his throat. "Lord Denys Darklyn has sought my services previously. I am certain he would welcome me with greater warmth than I have received here in the Red Keep." To clarify, he explained, "His Myrrish wife Lady Serala doesn't trust the Maesters and sought a healer who wasn't tied to the Faith of the Seven. I will serve as the official court physician. I managed to get passage for all of us on a ship that leaves tonight."

I looked at Hermione and opened my mouth but didn't have anything to say.

"Mother, father," Hermione turned to them. "Please start, I will catch up with you in 5 minutes."

When Healer Granger was about to protest, Jane literally pushed him out of the tower and followed after him saying a quick goodbye to me. I, however, was focused solely on Hermione. "I can't believe you are leaving King's Landing," I said.

"Why would you care?" she snapped. "It's not as if you considered me close enough to share your secrets."

I took a deep breath. I raised a hand and her luggage suddenly floated up, making her gasp in shock. I then blew a kiss, moving wind, so that my kiss blew like a pleasant gust of wind, ruffling through her hair. I turned invisible and then I became visible and turned into a winged-stag. Then, I snapped my fingers conjuring a dozen butterflies made of flames around us, making her gasp in wonder, and then they vanished. Then, I conjured green flames and walked towards her and wrapped my arms in a tight embrace, allowing the flames to spread through her, erasing any signs of hunger, thirst, tiredness, injury or other malady that she might have been feeling.

"Now, you know all my secrets," I told her, as I parted from her.

"Wow," she said. "You really are one of a kind, aren't you?" She smiled at me sadly. "I will miss you."

"I will miss you too."

"I suppose since you've been so forthcoming, so should I," she began hesitatingly. "It's not a secret – well not in the same sense as your secrets – but I feel like I should share something with you about me that no one else, not even my mother and father, know."

I was listening eagerly.

"You know how you always joke about how I always remember everything I read?" she asked and I nodded back wondering where she was taking this. "That's just it – I always remember everything. I even have memories of when I was a baby in my mother's arms, every single one of them."

My eyes widened. So, Hermione had photographic memory. Of course, that term didn't really mean anything here but still that was impressive. "Hermione," I began, "you are very special. Because of your mind, of course, but I mean, you are very special to me. I – mmph," I was cut off as Hermione pressed her lips against mine and I savoured the sensation as I gently parted her lips with mine and tentatively touched her with my tongue, as if asking for permission and in response, she tapped back with her tongue. I heard her moan as our tongues started dancing with each other, relishing the taste of each other and hungry for more, until finally, she had to part from me to catch her breath.

"Wow," she said and I had to nod back in return. That was brilliant. Our first proper kiss. But I sincerely hoped, as I watched her walk away, it would be the first of many to come.

* * *

Lord Symond Staunton was not a pleasant man and under ordinary circumstances, I would have preferred to avoid his company. But the King had passed over the matter of my elevation to nobility to his Master of Laws and so I found myself in the presence of Lord Symond, who looked rather unhappy with the whole situation. I knew why, of course, Lord Symond was basically one of Lannister's leftover cronies and he had inherited his master's dislike of me.

"Now, listen very carefully, while in title you will be a noble, your nobility means very little," said Lord Symond. "The estate that the King earmarked for you – the Isle of Faces – is uninhabited and it is extremely unlikely that it will ever be inhabited. It is a nominal estate with no income and no people, just like your nobility. Your true identity shall always be the Bastard of Maidenvault. Do you understand?"

"I understand," I said, patiently. There was nothing to win by arguing with this man. He may not agree but being raised to nobility had a lot of meaning for me.

"Now, what name have you chosen? We will of course need to make sure it is appropriate."

I knew if I chose anything controversial, not only would it be shot down but the man will go straight to the King with suspicions about my intentions and that was why I had chosen -

"Stormfyre," I said. "As a reminder always of my bastardry." But also, I mused privately, a reminder of my two mighty heritages: the Storm Kings and the Dragonlords.

Lord Symond was silent for a moment before smiling – it wasn't a pleasant smile but one of vindictive glee. "Yes, I suppose that is a good idea. No one will forget your roots with the word Storm in your house name. Have you chosen your coat of arms and words?"

I nodded. I had been up all night but in the end there was only one obvious choice for my coat of arms. "A winged stag," I said. "Silver in colour in a field of purple." That was my Animagus form and also a connection to both my bloodlines. "My house words will be: _Fly with me._"

Lord Symond hesitated for a few moments but ultimately couldn't find any issues with my selection. I didn't choose a dragon so clearly I wasn't staking a claim to House Targaryen. Yes, my words could sound like a call to arms but they could also be just filled with general hope for betterment in life.

"Very well, _Lord Harren Stormfyre_," the Master of Laws sneered at me. "Or should I rather say _Bastard Lord_."

"Lord Staunton, this is highly unbecoming of you," came a voice I hadn't heard in a long time. I turned to the door and despite myself, my face split into a large grin.

"Father!" I called out in surprise.

Father walked towards me, ruffled my hair fondly and turned to the Master of Laws, who withered under his gaze. "I am sure I must have misheard for I rather doubt that the King's Small Council would show disrespect to one honoured by the King himself in public, from what I hear."

Lord Symond paused and looked from father to me and then back to father. "Well, my lord, we are done here. Your… son's legalisation and elevation to nobility has been completed. He is now Lord Harren Stormfyre of the Isle of Faces, a name that will surely inspire much respect and admiration." His final words were mocking for he couldn't see how any true noble would respect or admire a house that kept its bastard roots at the forefront. "I will be off, then."

Father was grinning very cheerfully at me after Lord Symond had left. "I hear you have been busy," he said. "Message reached Storm's End last night that the King had legitimised and elevated the bastard son of Princess Daena and I set sail immediately. We had a good wind and I rushed straight to find you."

"It's a long story," I sighed.

"I have heard most of it," father said reassuringly. "But I have one question above all others: how are you, son?"

"I'm fine," I said but my dad kept looking at me intently until I sighed and also sat down. "Actually, I am tired and a little bit unhappy. Lily –"

"The wet nurse?"

"Yes, her," I nodded. "She had become a good friend and now she has left King's Landing together with Healer Granger and his family. Healer Granger's daughter Hermione had also become a great friend of mine. I am sad that I have lost them all so suddenly."

Father listened to me patiently without judgement on the low birth of my friends. Finally, he said, "It is never easy to be parted from a friend and less so at your age. Time, I am afraid, is the only thing that heals, and keeping yourself distracted in the meanwhile." He smiled at me. "Perhaps, that is something I can assist you with."

I looked at father curiously.

"A father-son adventure," he said. "Just the two of us, wherever you want to go."

I looked at him silently. I had tried to distance myself from feelings towards him when he left me in King's Landing but I couldn't help but appreciate this gesture. Lord Steffon Baratheon was my father after all. "Anything?" When he nodded, I looked at him gleefully. "Can we visit Robert?" I hastily added, "And can we travel by road?" That would mean spending a longer time together and also see a bit more of Westeros.

Father laughed at my excitement. "Certainly," he said. "I will go and seek the King's permission."

The King had been in a strange mood, uncaring of all things, and he barely acknowledged father or me and simply waved a hand in dismissive assent to our request for leave. His mind seemed to be a million miles away and I wondered if we should postpone our trip but father was eager for us to go ahead – he saw it as his first proper chance to bond with me.

"How are Robert and Stannis doing anyway?" I asked as we set out on our horses in a gentle trot.

"Robert fares well," said father. "Jon Arryn's maester keeps me informed of his progress and sounds like he is becoming rather accomplished with many kinds of weapons, but more so with maces, hammers and axes than swords and spears. As also with drinking, gambling and breaking the hearts of young girls all around."

I laughed. "That sounds like Robert."

"Stannis, on the other hand, is… well, you know, Stannis," said father. "He is a lot more serious about everything in life. These days he has taken a shining towards ethics. Not that he is old enough for it yet but I rather doubt he will do even a quarter of the things Robert does with girls out of sheer propriety."

I sniggered. "Well, if it makes any difference, I take after Robert more than Stannis." Father raised an eyebrow. "I have lost track of all the rules I have broken since I arrived in King's Landing and oh, yes, I have kissed a girl."

Father looked impressed. "Then, you have beaten both mine and Robert's record and are the youngest of us to have done so. Who is this fair lass?"

"Hermione Granger," I said. "The friend I was talking about. She is really pretty and I can see in her a flower that is just waiting to blossom and when it does, I wouldn't be surprised if she is counted amongst the top beauties of Westeros."

We stopped talking and picked up our pace and that is how our journey continued, long periods of fast horse-riding followed by brief interludes of slow travel, to let the horses recover while he chatted. Father was certainly well trained but he was quite surprised by the speed and stamina at which I was able to journey. Of course, I used wind to give us a boost and tactical use of green obsidian to rejuvenate my aching muscles and remove hunger, thirst and general tiredness. So, after two days pf swift travelling we had reached the Ivy Inn on the Kingsroad, halfway between King's Landing and Harrenhal. The plan was to sleep overnight at the Ivy Inn and then continue onward to Harrenhal, where we would break for a few days. Then, we would leave Harrenhal and journey until the Crossroads Inn for another overnight break and then take the High Road amidst the mountains to the Eyrie.

Ivy Inn was a small ivy-covered inn with a common room, stables and bath houses, with a handful of rooms on the upper floor for passing travellers with sufficient gold to pay for it. The innkeeper recognised father and seemed more fascinated with me than I would have expected, but it appeared rumours of the Bastard of Maidenvault had indeed travelled beyond King's Landing.

"Have you drank ale before?" asked father. I shook my head. "Good," said father. "We will have a drink together."

I knew the taste would be bitter from memories of previous lives but despite that, the moment the liquid touched my tongue, I started coughing and spitting, much to the amusement of father and other nearby patrons.

"The first time is never easy," father laughed. "But you get over it."

Before long, a call was made from one of the serving girls to hear my music. I tried to protest but someone managed to find an old fiddle and it was handed to me. I had no support from father, who also from the looks of it wanted to hear my music.

I sighed and pushed my chair around to make space and tuned the strings and then I started playing a simple melody I had practiced previously, _Amazing Grace_. By the time I was halfway in, I could see many were moved to tears, mainly the serving girls, and even father looked to be struggling to keep his emotions in check. So, when I suddenly changed tunes and struck a more cheery rendition of _Here Comes The Sun_ and by the end the whole tavern was signing along with me.

"That was beautiful," said father. "Once again, I am so sorry, son, for all the hardships you must face." He seemed to be a bit downcast thinking Amazing Grace was based on my own life.

"There will be fewer hardships now that I have been raised to nobility," I pointed out.

Father sighed. "Not fewer, just different kind of hardships," he muttered.

We resumed our journey the next day and were making good pace along the Kingsroad. I wasn't sure how I would feel on seeing the Whents, who I believed were the Weasleys of this world. In my memory, I had been so close to them in my first life and had I not embraced my destiny as Master of Death, I would have probably ended up marrying that little hottie Ginny Weasley and probably one of the only regrets of my cosmic self was not to have screwed with all the hot girls I easily could have taken to bed in my first life, Hermione and Ginny being top in that list but with many others right behind them. But did I want to cultivate a friendship with Ron's equivalent, even if he ended up being the same age as me? I wasn't as insecure as I had been back then and more importantly, I was planning for grand things in my life and really didn't need a companion who would be jealous at my every success. No, Ron would do best without my friendship here. However, if the twins Fred and George had counterparts, that would be a completely different thing.

I pulled the reigns on my horse when I saw father abruptly slowed down. I looked at him curiously and he raised a hand to his lips as he looked around. We were on the Kingsroad, and to our front and right were green and empty fields as far as the eye could see but to our left was a forest between the road and the God's Eye Lake, within which my new land the Isle of Faces was located.

I felt a sudden movement in the wind and gasped as half a dozen arrows flew towards us, each with perfect aim, but with one sudden wind swipe, they were swept just slightly off course to pass us by harmlessly.

"Outlaws!" father yelled, as he pulled out his sword and shield. He glanced at me in concern. "Run, Harren, I will hold them back."

"We will fight them together, father," I said.

When he started protesting at my statement, I ignored him and eased my horse towards the forest and pulled out my sword - one made by Ollivander. I had decided against travelling with my Ollivander scabbard as that too would look odd on someone my age so I only took one sword.

Seeing us charge towards them, as father was right behind me, the outlaws sent another wave of arrows before they poured out of the forest. Yet again, I used wind to push the arrows off course. There were five of them – all men in the prime of youth – halfway between father and me in age – with bows, swords and maces as weapons. They were armoured but in a haphazard manner – and I assumed they just took whatever armour of their victims that fitted them. But that meant the armour was damaged and had various exposed areas. So, as I charged upon the first one, I swung my sword and sent a gust of wind into his face, distracting him, moments before my sword hacked at the exposed side of the neck. The sword felt so light and moved so swiftly that I knew I had made the right choice.

Without paying heed to the man's cries, I swiftly moved my sword to block and redirect the mace of another outlaw that had come to aid his comrade. This time I conjured fire – just a tiny wisp – but sent it to his armour, the sudden heat made him wince and lower his mace in shock and pain, and right then my sword, charged by the strength of wind, hacked at his midsection, breaking through the armour.

Meanwhile, father was engaging an outlaw in battle. He was on the ground and from the looks of it, didn't need any help, so I turned towards the remaining two outlaws. The bowmen looked at the fate of the others in horror and appeared to be in no mood to fight. They decided to make a run for it. I casually picked up the mace of the outlaw I had just killed and flung it towards one of the running outlaws and used wind to maintain its trajectory, speed and power. By that time, father had dealt with his adversary and joined me.

"By the Warrior!" father cursed when the mace struck the outlaw's head and cracked it open with such ferocity that both of us winced while the final outlaw gasped in shock and stumbled. We rushed towards the last fallen outlaw. Before he could get up, father's sword was at his throat.

As father questioned the outlaw, I surveyed the damage behind us and suddenly walked a few paces to a side and puked. Part of me accepted that life and death were part of the same balance that pervaded all of reality but another part of me was yet to come to terms with the fact that I had just killed three men. In self-defence, yes, but with such brutality that even a hardened warrior like Lord Steffon Baratheon was stunned. The scariest thing was – as much as the aftermath was causing me some discomfort, during the actual fight, I had been so enthralled that I knew this was the first of many battles to come where I would take lives. The battlelust, as some called it, that was a thing I had tasted and I decided I quite enjoyed it.

Father gripped my shoulder. I looked up at him and saw a concerned expression – not one of disgust or fear or judgement but just concern. "The first time is never easy," he said. "That is as true for your first ale as it is for your first kill."

I hesitated, recalling his words from the tavern. "But you get over it?"

Father paused for a moment. "Some take longer than others," he said finally. "Son, we need to go swiftly."

I frowned and looked at him.

"The man I questioned –" he glanced at the outlaw and to my surprise, he was also dead – I had missed observing father kill him, "gave me directions to their hideout where they keep their loot…" I was confused. Why would the Warden of the East care about some small-time outlaw's loot? He clarified, "The outlaw also mentioned prisoners."

My eyes widened. Yes, saving an innocent life might make it easier for me to get over killing the outlaws. "Into the forest?"

Father nodded. We rounded up our horses and rode into the forest and father would pause several times, frown thoughtfully, and then pick a direction. I wondered why he killed the outlaw instead of letting him live so as to lead us to their hideout but decided not to ask the question. Eventually, after a couple of wrong turns and having to retrace our steps, we came upon a cave. The entrance was through a hole in the trunk of an old but massive tree. Besides the roots, there was a gap through which a person could squeeze through and go down to a bigger enclosure. We both glanced at the hole and then I sighed. "I will go," I said, for it was clear that father was too thick to squeeze through the gap. As I squeezed through, I created a wind armour just in case there was trouble at the other end.

But all I saw was darkness and the smell of damp earth. Raising a hand, whilst touching the hilt of my sword, I conjured a ball of flames and lit a torch. The enclosure was slightly smaller in size than the room we had slept in at the tavern and it had a chest full of gold and jewels, some broken bits of armour and a motley collection of weapons. At one side, bound, gagged and blindfolded, were two girls. I walked towards them and whispered. "Don't be scared, I am going to rescue you."

They made some struggling sounds so I kept speaking. "My name is Harren Stormfyre. My father Lord Steffon Baratheon, Lord Paramount of the Stormlands is waiting for us outside." By then I had removed the blindfolds and gags and the two girls had stopped struggling. They looked to be in their mid-teens and had fine robes, now dirty, dishevelled and torn in all the wrong places, suggesting they were highborn girls who were abducted by the outlaws and raped.

"And – and _them_?" asked one of the girls.

"The outlaws are dead," I said. "My father and I killed them."

"Dead," repeated one of the girls and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. I could see my words were soothing her. Her companion looked at me and frowned, "But you are so young?"

I smiled at them as I cut the last of their binds with my sword. "Come, my ladies," I said. "It's time to leave this shithole and return to freedom."

One of them gave me a weak smile while the other nodded. I looked at the hole through which I had emerged, trying to figure out the best way to leave. There were vines coming down, which looked study enough to hold the weight of a grown man but the problem was they were relatively high up. If father was here and if he jumped, he might just about have reached it but the rest of us were a bit too short. "The vines," I said. "Can you reach them?"

One of the girls stood up groggily. Then, she tried to leap up a few times. But as I had feared, she was too short to reach them. "I will lift you," I said, and as I turned towards her, she took a step back in fear. "It's okay," I raised my hands in surrender. "I won't hurt you. I will just try to lift you up a bit so you can reach the vines. Okay?"

She slowly nodded. I then bent and grabbed her by the lower waist, using wind at the same time to push her up, and to her great surprise, I was able to easily push her up until her fingers touched the vines. "I have it," she said, and I pushed her up until she was climbing out of the hole.

"My lady?" I turned to the second girl.

She walked closer to me. But then she faltered. "How will you come out?" she asked.

I smiled at her. "Don't worry about me," I said. "I will find a way."

She frowned at me but then she grabbed my hand. "You have saved me," she whispered. "I was resigned to my fate in my mind but beyond all hope, you have saved me. I would thank you, Harren Stormfyre, but I do not know how to do so."

I was getting slightly impatient. Why was this the right place to discuss such a topic? But I took a deep breath. "Your friendship will be a good start, my lady," I said. She smiled weakly at me, which lit up her face in a manner I hadn't expected. She then indicated she was ready and I picked her up and raised her until she too was climbing out.

After the girls had gone, I looked around. There was something about this little hole that fascinated me. It didn't look like the kind of place a bunch of unruly outlaws would have been able to design on their own and yet it didn't look like something made by nature that they stumbled upon. I sent a wind probe around me in all directions and I felt a small opening where wind rushed through a narrow passage.

"You all right there, son?" Father's voice came down from above.

I yelled back. "All good, father. I think there's more down here. I want to explore a bit longer."

"Five minutes!" Father responded. "I will light a fire and get the girls something to eat."

I turned towards where the wind had rushed through. There wasn't a passage big enough for me to go through but perhaps… I remembered how the secret passage in Maidensvault was accessed by pulling out a dragon statute. Perhaps, there was a secret entrance here as well. I created another fireball to improve the lighting. That's when I saw a small symbol in the wall etched into the stone. A coat of arms with two heavy silver chains crossing between a gold longship, a pine tree, a cluster of grapes and a raven flying.

"House Hoare!" I gasped and I touched the symbol. It felt like a button of some kind so I pushed it inside and as it went in, it was like a lever that forced a section of the wall to go inside with it, to create an opening. I slid through the opening, letting two fireballs float on either side of me to keep passage illuminated and also in case there was any danger.

The narrow passageway went on until it reached a much larger chamber than the one beneath the tree and when I entered it, my jaws nearly dropped to the floor. The chamber was bigger than King Aerys' bedchambers and was filled with chests of gold and jewels. I picked up a gold coin – it wasn't the gold dragon that was in current use but a much older coin with a hand on one side and the face of a man on the other. I didn't know what that meant but did recall that an ancient Great House, now long extinct, House Gardener, used to have a hand as their sigil. Another chest had a mix of gold and iron coins that were of Pentosi and Braavosi origin. And various others.

Several chests were filled with jewels, ranging from rubies, to emeralds to sapphires to other unusual stones I had never seen before. On one side, there was a chest that was filled with scrolls, in a language that I wasn't able to decipher. And on one corner, there was a flagpole with a flag, now tattered and decaying, showing the coat of arms of House Hoare. Beside the flagpole, I saw yet another symbol etched into the stone with the coat of arms. Once again, I pushed it and opened a new entrance into the cave, the passage led to yet another chamber, this time filled with armour and weapons, and yet another symbol that opened another entrance. The armour were all black of some strange material that wasn't metal or leather.

I could sense that the passageway from the tree where I entered was roughly going in the direction of Harrenhal, as the crow flies. Looks like House Hoare had made an escape route from Harrenhal littered with vaults in case they needed a hasty exit, which begged the question, why didn't they escape when Aegon the Conqueror burnt Harrenhal to the ground?

I started retracing my steps. There simply wasn't enough time to explore the whole cavern. On the way back, I grabbed a handful of gold coins with the Gardener sigil and returned to the entrance. "I am back!" I yelled and used wind to float up in mid-air until I caught hold of the vines. I glanced at the cave and with a snap of my fingers, the flames vanished and then I climbed back up.

Father gave me a hand to pull me out and I saw the look of relief on his face on seeing me safe and in one piece. A short distance from us, where there was a small clearing, obviously used by the outlaws for making fires to cook food, father had started a small fire and the two girls were sitting around it, huddled next to each other and nibbling on some bread.

"I found another deeper chamber," I said. "I think before the outlaws found it, this was a hideout used by House Hoare."

"Why do say that?" asked Father.

I handed father the gold coins with the hand.

"These are golden hands!" Father exclaimed. "In terms of gold, each is worth about half the value of a golden dragon but some collectors may pay much more to get hold of a sizeable quantity of the original mint." He nodded. "Yes, House Hoare was known for having raided much of the wealth of Westeros during their long reign. They may not have been the wisest but they most certainly were the wealthiest rulers of this land."

I don't know why but I decided against sharing with father about the true extent of the wealth in there or that the cavern might even lead all the way up to Harrenhal. Instead, I glanced at the girls and raised an eyebrow. Now, in daylight, I could see them more clearly and took a deep breath for they were beautiful.

The first girl I had rescued was red-haired with high cheekbones. The second girl had brown hair, falling to her shoulder with curls and an oval face with a haunted expression. Both were slim with athletic figures and looked at me as we walked towards them.

"Harren, this is Lady Sarya, cousin to Lord Arthur Whent of Harrenhal," said Father, pointing to the red-haired girl. "And next to her is Lady Keira Buckwell, daughter of Lord Kilian Buckwell of Antlers. They were travelling from Antlers to Harrenhal when their entourage was ambushed by the outlaws and they were abducted."

"It's been two weeks!" Keira cried out. "Two weeks of…" she shuddered while the other girl clasped her hand.

"It is over now," said Father, reassuringly. "Harren, we are escorting them to Harrenhal. If we leave now, we should reach by nightfall." He paused. "One of them will need to ride with you."

I nodded as Father put out the fire. I walked to my horse and waited patiently. Both girls had gone through hell so I didn't want to dwell on how attractive they were but it wasn't going to be easy if one of them was going to be in such close proximity whilst riding a horse. Sarya made a beeline for Father, perhaps thinking he would be a better protector if we got separated and in trouble, but Keira seemed content to be with me.

I offered her a hand to get up on the horse but she ignored it, giving me a half-smile as she climbed up on her own. I rolled my eyes and climbed up in front of her – my heart skipped a beat when her arms came from behind me and wrapped around my waist and her head leaned against my back.

I followed Father as we started at a slow pace until we left the forest and then we picked up to a more moderate pace. When the hulking towers of Harrenhal were visible in the distance, I felt Keira relax somewhat and I picked up some pace. Not for bringing the girls back to safety quicker but because I was about to meet more people from the past life of Harry Potter – the Weasleys who were the Whents.

Everyone knew Harrenhal was the largest castle in the Seven Kingdoms with monstrous curtain walls with walls so thick and rooms so big that it appeared to be built for giants rather than humans. Everyone also knew that none of that had prevented Harrenhal from being burnt by dragonfire.

Whilst we had been riding towards it, I was taken aback by the rich holdings of Harrenhal, vast tracts of green fertile land but the reason for my surprise was that all of that was in disuse, no farms or orchards or timber yards or anything at all of any commercial use. With such fertile lands as part of its holdings and the Gods Eye Lake as a source of freshwater fish and not to forget its strategic location right in the middle of all inland trade routes, how had the Whents managed to not become more prosperous, influential and powerful than they were?

The sense of decay was evident in the towers even from a distance. The top sections of the tallest towers were still burnt and in ruins and I wondered if the reason for the lack of development of Harrenhal was that the Whents had to spend most, if not all of their income, in the daily maintenance of such a vast property and therefore they had no money to spare to improve the castle or to further develop the lands. But strangely it was apt - the Burrow, where the Weasleys had lived, had the appearance that someday it would crumble and fall, and Harrenhal had a fairly similar appearance, despite being a mountain in comparison to the Burrow.

We avoided Harrentown, which was right at the base of Harrenhal beyond the curtain walls and at the northern shore of the lake, mainly due to the state in which the two girls were, even with us giving them our cloaks to hide their torn and tattered clothes.

As we approached the gates, father moved towards the gatekeeper. "Send word to Lord Whent that Lord Baratheon of Storm's End is here together with the Lady Sarya Whent and Lady Keira Buckwell." That created a sudden rush of activity and within a short while, I saw a familiar face rush out towards us.

"Ser Willem!" I called out and to my surprise, Keira immediately released her hands from around me.

As more guards and servants and family members poured out to form a combination of a welcoming party and a protective escort for the two rescued prisoners, I managed to figure out a few things by listening to others talk.

Keira was the sole surviving child of Lord Buckwell, so she would inherit Antlers after her father. A union between Keira and Ser Willem was being planned and that was the reason for their journey so the two of them could get to know each other. As Sarya and Keira were of equal age, she had been sent to escort her. I was slightly disappointed to learn that Keira's marriage was already being finalised. Even though I had known her for such a brief time, I had been instantly attracted to her not least because she had a faint resemblance to Hermione with her long brown curls and angelic face and also because she seemed to have a kind personality, seeing how she had been concerned for how I would get out of the cave before she left. That was why I was frowning as I saw Ser Willem escort the two traumatised girls indoors while the Castellan escorted us to the great hall.

As we walked, I tried to focus on the castle instead of the girl and again, I was astounded by the sheer size of Harrenhal. Even the Red Keep felt dwarfed in comparison to the vastness of Harrenhal. Even the smallest tower, as we rode past it, by my estimate, was more than an acre at the foot, and each of the dozen stables were large enough to house more than a thousand horses. Someone mentioned as I marvelled at the size that the godswood alone covered 20 acres.

In the great hall, we were met with Lord Arthur and Lady Molly. Arthur looked almost exactly as I recalled him except he wore fine robes of a nobleman and had a more assured look to him. Molly, to my great surprise, appeared much better than the old universe. She was in decent fitness, without all that excess weight, and being a lady of the castle and not doing all the housework, she took care of her appearance and her face didn't show the ravages of age, stress and labour that I recalled. In fact, one could say she was moderately attractive, but clearly the one who had inherited the renowned Whent beauty was the youngest member Ginny Weasley, who even as a mere child, looked delightful.

Part of me was surprised that this world had so many attractive women. Of course, from reputation some bloodlines just seemed incapable of producing anything otherwise, such as the Targaryens, Hightowers, Lannisters, Daynes and Whents and on top of that, Hermione, Lily and now Keira were right there at the top with the best… it was unreal but I wasn't going to complain obviously.

"Welcome, my Lord Baratheon," Arthur Whent approached us with arms extended. "I wish circumstances of your arrival were less grave but it is always heartening to greet an old friend."

"Arthur," Father clasped arms before turning to Molly. "My lady, you look lovely as always." He took her hand and touched it to his lips.

"Please stop trying to seduce my wife, Steffon," Arthur protested in a good natured manner.

Father turned to me. "My son," he said. "Harren Stormfyre." His declaration turned their attention to me and to my dismay, I sensed a sudden increase in hostility from Molly. While Arthur didn't show anything quite as visible as his wife, I felt a coolness between us that hadn't been there just a few moments ago.

"The Bastard of Maidenvault," Molly muttered, as she sneered at me. In that one moment, whatever beauty I had seen in her vanished and I came across the truth that I had been fighting all along – this world may have counterparts of the people I knew but they were not the same. Definitely, not the same.

Father's hand came on my shoulder protectively. "Is there a problem?" he asked. "Is my son not welcome here, Lord Whent?"

I felt odd. I had come to terms with the highborn of this world treating me as if I was beneath them. I really didn't need their approval for my own self-worth – my magic was enough. But despite that Father's words suddenly filled me with a strange and foreign feeling.

"When we received your raven requesting our hospitality for you and your son, we assumed the son you spoke of was a trueborn son," began Lord Arthur. He hesitated but then he sighed, "I suppose an explanation is in order. As you might remember, Molly and I are offshoots of two distant branches of House Whent with a common ancestor several generations back. But while I was born and brought up in Harrenhal, Molly grew up with her cousin in King's Landing…" I had a bad feeling as I faced Molly's glare. "Selina Cargyll was a like a sister to her."

"They didn't even spare her little boy!" Molly cried out, her voice laced with anger, anguish and venom at the same time.

Father stilled. "What did the King do?" he asked softly.

Arthur met Father's eyes and then he sighed. "House Cargyll is no more," he said simply. "Ravens were dispatched two nights ago."

Both Father and I gasped in horror. Selina Cargyll deserved punishment, yes, but the entire family? I suddenly recalled Aerys saying he had learnt from the mistakes with House Toyne and would do things properly. I took that to mean he would treat them with mercy and benevolence but he had gone the very opposite route and destroyed them all. But Father kept his grip on my shoulder. "Lord Whent, if I understand correctly, you hold a grudge against my son for the actions of a woman who poisoned the young prince and the King's retaliation thereafter?"

"Lies!" Molly shrieked. "All lies! Selina would never hurt a child. It was that servant girl who did it and you had my sweet Selina murdered – you monster!"

I opened my mouth but then I closed it again. What do you say to a person who still believed in the innocence of Selina Cargyll when the milk from her teats was proven to be the poisonous one? Even if someone could claim she was made to drink the poison without her knowledge, she deliberately fed her own breast milk to the prince.

Lord Arthur held his wife back. "The fact is, Lord Baratheon, under the laws of the realm, a common bastard has no standing to accuse one of such noble lineage of such a crime. The correct channel would have been for a bastard to inform the appropriate authorities who would then have made the decision whether or not to accuse a nobleman or a noblewoman. The law was subverted in this case, whether rightly or wrongly, which then resulted in the annihilation of a noble house." He looked at me with harsh eyes. "Beyond the question of individual guilt, I see a terrible precedent has been set wherein the rule of law is secondary to the whims of the king. And your boy was right in the middle of it all."

Father remained silent. I wondered why he didn't rise to the defence of the King. Surely, justice was more important that procedure? And then I realised why Father was silent – he agreed with Lord Arthur Whent. The nobles truly believed, even the seemingly decent ones, that the smallfolk should be beneath them in every fundamental way.

"Honour dictates that we provide you with food and lodgings," said Arthur. "But I trust you will understand if we cancel the feast – if not for this reason, we would have done so for knowledge of Sarya and Keira's fates."

I cleared my throat. "Honour dictates me to decline your hospitality for I can see you do not truly wish to give me guest rights," I said. "Father, I shall find a room in a tavern in Harrentown."

"You won't be alone," Father turned to me. "Let's go, son."

"Lord Steffon," Arthur sounded slightly worried. "I have nothing but goodwill towards you, your trueborn sons and House Baratheon." Which meant he had no goodwill at all towards the _bastard son_. There again, the unspoken word, _bastard_, despite being legitimised by the king and raised to nobility.

Father paused and considered - after all, he was more than just my father and had his responsibilities as Lord of the Stormlands. "On behalf of House Baratheon, I shall take no insult nor bear any grudge out of this," he conceded. "But you have wounded me as a father, Arthur, and that I regret to say marks a bitter moment in our friendship. I shall not stay here one minute longer than necessary."

As we walked away, I turned back and saw Arthur Whent looked extremely relieved that he hadn't made a powerful enemy. Little did he know that he had made a worse enemy than Steffon Baratheon that night.

Me.

But that wasn't the end of things.

In the late hours of the night, I was suddenly awakened by a sound but I pretended to remain sleeping. Three men had broken into my room. Well, not quite broken into, seeing as they simply opened the door using a key. I was about to use wind to blast them when I heard a name: _Willem_.

What was going on? Was Ser Willem amongst those men? More importantly, why wasn't Father waking up?

I used wind to bring their hushed whispers to my ears.

"I don't care if the sleeping draught was strong enough, Charlus," Ser Willem responded. "We should be as quiet as possible. I am not comfortable with any of this – least of all if we get detected."

"I am with Willem, Charlus," replied another voice. "I say we should just stab them both now and hurry back before anyone wakes up."

"No, Perceval," Willem sounded annoyed. "We have discussed this before. We are not murderers. What we are doing here is an act of justice, not of vengeance. We will take the bastard to mother and she will judge him for his crime against Aunt Selina and her family. It will be easier to convince the other nobles that we were right if we do it that way and obviously the King will not bother too much about one bastard."

I felt my faith shaken. I had held Ser Willem on a pedestal, having seen him fight in a melee with great valour and honour. But here he was about to abduct what he believed was a child. I could use wind and/or fire and defeat them there but the fact was I wanted to see who all were involved in this plot. It sounded like Molly was the instigator but was Arthur also involved? And any other nobles? So, I allowed them to tie my hands and carry me away, pretending to be asleep.

"I like this sword," said Charlus, looking at my obsidian encrusted sword. "I think I will take this."

Willem sighed. "I thought the plan was not to rob them. But perhaps that is for the best. If Lord Baratheon wakes up and sees both the boy and his sword missing, he might think the boy left without him. Perceval, while we take him to mother, go to the stables and release the boy's horse to the wilderness."

They took me down, paid the barkeeper a bag of gold, then they stuffed me into a cart, which casually moved along the town towards the castle gate. Ser Willem rode on a horse alongside the cart and ordered the gatekeepers to let us in. Eventually, the cart came to a halt and I was pulled out and thrown to the ground.

"Perceval, go to mother and tell her we are in the Godswood, waiting for her to judge the Bastard of Maidenvault," said Charlus. "Make sure you don't wake up father. He will not understand."

When Perceval left, I started thinking how best to manipulate the situation in my favour. It wasn't going to be easy, especially if it ends in bloodshed. That was when I heard another presence. Willem also heard it and became cautious but I used wind to sense who it was. The newcomer wasn't talking so I couldn't pull any sound but I did manage to pull a scent. A very familiar scent. After all, she had been clutching on to me as we rode to Harrenhal for nearly six hours. It was Keira Buckwell.

I started stirring, pretending to waking up. "W-Where am I?" I asked out loud. "W-What are you doing?"

"Shut up," Ser Willem snapped. "And don't even bother shouting, no one will hear you."

I looked at him and pretended great shock and raised my voice. "B-But Ser Willem! You're a knight of the realm… Why did you abduct me?" The footsteps stopped on my words and given I was pulling wind, I heard Keira gasp in horror. Great, if I was lucky, I could engineer things so that… "When my father wakes up, he will not rest until he finds me."

"Nobody knows you are here except me, my brothers and my mother," Ser Willem muttered. "He will not find you and then he will give up."

I sighed, looking forlorn. "But why?"

"Your actions resulted in the murder of my Aunt Selina and her entire household including her little boy," he said, sounding pained. "There must be justice for the death of the Cargylls."

I looked at him. "So, you would abduct me instead of challenge the King's decision, O Valiant Knight?" I said mockingly. "To think that once I looked up to you and wanted to grow up and become like you, a winner of melees. Ha! An abductor of children, that's what you are. A false knight, I name you." I would have continued but stopped when Ser Willem's slapped me so hard that my head whirled to one side but I could see that I had got to him with my words for now he was looking around with anxiety and self-doubt.

Within a quarter of an hour, Perceval returned with Lady Molly. The woman looked at me with glee on her face. She walked towards me and slapped me across the cheek.

"Is this what House Whent stands for?" I asked. "Abusing children."

"No," spat Molly on my face. "House Whent stands for family. Anyone who hurts one of us, we will hunt them down and hurt them back tenfold." She looked at how I was secured against the tree and nodded in appreciation. "Good work, my sons. Such fortune can only be the work of the Seven, who delivered the Bastard of Maidenvault right to our doorstep and made him foolish enough to reject your father's offer of guest right. We must play our part in this and deliver the justice that the Seven would have us do on their behalf."

"Justice?" I exclaimed. "Then, will I have a trial?"

"Did Selina get a trial?" snapped Molly. "Did her boy get a trial? Did her brothers get a trial? Did her father and mother get a trial? How dare you demand a trial?" She slapped me again. "For your actions against my foster family, I declare you guilty as charged. Willem, execute the bastard."

To give him credit, Ser Willem didn't move as he looked at the ground. "I cannot, mother," he said finally. "This – This cannot be justice."

"Very well," said Molly. "Stand aside, then. Charlus, do you have the strength to obey your mother's orders?"

"Yes, mother," said Charlus, and he drew his sword - or rather, my sword, that he had claimed for himself.

It was beginning to get very close. Perhaps, my ploy failed and Keira decided not to get involved. Or perhaps, father didn't believe her. Or perhaps, they were both held back by Lord Arthur. So many things could have happened.

As Charlus approached me, I decided to give Ser Willem one final chance at redemption. "Is there a knight here who is true to his oath and will come to defend the young and defenceless?" For a moment, it looked like Ser Willem was about to move but then he dropped his sword and looked away and waited for his brother to murder me.

"Enough!"

The voice came from a distance and to everyone's shock, Lord Arthur emerged with Father and Keira beside him. Father's face was filled with fury and concern but Lord Arthur was so enraged that his face had turned as red as his hair.

Arthur hissed. "What has happened to all of you? He's a child, for pity's sake. A child!"

"He killed Selina!" Molly wailed at him.

"No, Molly, he did not," said Arthur, firmly. "The King sentenced her to death and the Royal Executioner killed your foster sister for the crime of killing a babe." He grabbed his head in his hands. "Oh, why didn't the Stranger take me before I came to see such a day that I am ashamed to be part of my own family?"

"Father!" Ser Willem exclaimed.

Arthur turned towards him but didn't look him in the face. "The proudest day of my life was when you became a knight, son, even if you have forgotten that day and the oath you took." He turned to Father and went on my knees. "Mercy, Lord Baratheon, though they do not deserve it, I beg mercy for my family."

"Arthur!" Molly was appalled at his actions. "What are you doing?"

"All is not lost," Charlus muttered. "We outnumber them. We can kill them both." He looked at Keira. "All three of them. No one will know."

"Enough, Charlus," Willem rounded on him. "Father is right. We went too far." He walked towards me and knelt, unable to look me in the eye as he cut my ropes. "It is over."

I stood up. For a moment, I thought Charlus was going to attack me anyway but that moment passed and he too dropped his weapon and stepped away. I quickly retrieved my Ollivander steel sword and felt a rush of power when the obsidian connected me with fire elemental magic.

"Mercy, Lord Baratheon," Arthur continued pleading.

Father shook his head. "It is not for me to give or deny it," he said. "My son might have been born a bastard but as Lord of House Stormfyre, this is now his call." Father turned to me. "Son, you would be within your rights to declare a feud with House Whent, inform the Iron Throne of what happened here and demand the King's justice. Alternatively, if you are of mind, you may settle a treaty of restitution in private with Lord Arthur Whent following which you will forego any claim to seek any further retribution or compensation for today's events. Representatives from House Baratheon and House Buckwell will bear witness to your treaty and copies will be sent to the Citadel and the Red Keep without specific details of the offence. This is your decision to make."

I looked at them. Arthur and Willem looked ashamed, Molly and Charlus looked perplexed and still enraged but knew better than to say or do anything now, Perceval looked oddly bored, more than anything else, as if he didn't really care either about his mother's punishment of me or of my punishment of House Whent. I looked at Keira who was looking at Ser Willem with disgust – I wasn't surprised – she had been abducted and raped by outlaws and here her intended betrothed had abducted a child and intended to kill him.

I sighed finally. Making their punishment public was tempting but that could mobilise more noble houses against me, who would see that as another example of me overreaching yet against the nobles. After all, if Aerys heard that House Whent sympathised with House Cargyll… except, this time would be much worse for me, as I knew that the Whents were closely linked to House Tully, Lords Paramount of the Riverlands, a more powerful enemy than I cared to have at this stage, especially given the fact that Tywin Lannister wasn't overly fond of me either.

"A private treaty of restitution," I finally decided. "Four members of your family acted against me so I will demand four things from you."

"Done," said Lord Arthur. "Save for anything that would harm my daughter Ginevra, whatever you ask shall be yours."

"Father!" Charlus cried out in horror. "You can't mean that."

"Silence!" Arthur snapped at him. "Do you not understand the severity of your actions? If the King hears we threatened one of Targaryen blood whom he personally honoured and we did so in support of Selina Cargyll - the murderer of the royal prince - do you think he would hesitate striking us down too?"

As I saw expressions of shock and realisation on the faces of the other Whents, I wondered what universe they lived in if they thought Aerys would just let them off with a stern telling off. Did they not know anything of their King's volatility? Well, they didn't live in King's Landing, so perhaps they actually didn't…

"Lord Stormfyre, please state your demands," continued Lord Arthur.

"As you are aware, the Isle of Faces was given to me by the king but it has no income of its own," I began. "So, for my first demand, I want House Whent to cede all rights in connection with the God's Eye Lake to House Stormfyre of the Isle of Faces, which I will lease back to you for fishing in the northern shores - at a fair price."

It felt like a cheap one but I had a dual purpose in doing so. First, initially it would generate an income stream for me without having to do any real work other than putting in place a leasing agreement. Second, it would allow me to develop a proper fisheries market in time. Fresh fish was impossible to bring inland using traditional trade routes and the freshwater fisheries remained underutilised so that was one thing I could change in the future. The God's Eye Lake held a very strategic centralised location and could profit massively from this industry.

"Second," I continued. "I want your sons who acted against me to be punished. One will be sent on exile to Essos for three years, another to the Citadel to become a maester and the third will take the black."

"No!" Molly cried in anguish. "Not my sons. You can't take my sons away."

"Done," said Arthur, also sounding anguished. "Willem will be exiled for three years, Charlus will take the black and Perceval shall become a maester."

I took some pleasure in seeing the expressions on the three Whents faces but oddly Perceval seemed a bit pleased with the situation while Charlus was horrified and Willem resigned.

"What else will you have of us?" asked Arthur.

"Third, for the son you send on exile, when he gets married, I shall have right of the first night," I said, much to the shock of those present. But my rationale was simple. There was no House Delacour here but if Willem somehow found Fleur against all odds, like James found Lily, at least for a little time, then I would like the right to fuck her. Moreover, it would be the crowning glory of my undermining the Whents for daring to strike against me.

"Father," Willem raised his voice over the protests from everyone, including my own father, on that condition. "It is okay. I will not marry so this will never come to fruition and if I do, then I shall abdicate my claim to Harrenhal and House Whent as your heir so there will be no question of succession." He glanced at Keira and looked down anyway. "Besides, I rather suspect Lady Keira is no longer pleased to have me as her betrothed."

"But what about Harrenhal?" asked Arthur in shock. "Who will inherit after me?"

"Ronald and Ginevra are still there as are my half-brothers Fredrik and Jorg," said Willem. "There are plenty of heirs to House Whent."

Oh, well, I decided, if it gets wasted, it gets wasted. Nothing I can do about it. But I had to make the final one count. I didn't need their money, there was a treasure waiting for me plus I could literally make my own gold and diamonds. No, I wanted to punish Molly. I already did so by sending her three oldest sons on exile or otherwise away from her and then humiliated her sense of family by claiming right of first night for their firstborn son's bride. Now, the last nail in the coffin.

"You will send your remaining trueborn children to become wards of two other noble houses – one in Dorne and the other in the North – until they are to be wed," I said, taking their final kids away from them.

Later, when Father and I rode away in silence without obviously anyone coming to see us off, he looked at me strangely. "I was mistaken," he said. "You will not find it very hard fitting into your new role as a noble. It is clear you were born for it. Just like all Targaryens."

I turned to Father and wondered why he looked at me with the hint of disappointment. It hurt a little bit but not quite as much as I would have expected it to.

"No, not like a Targaryen," I corrected him. "Like a Storm King of old."


End file.
